White Nightmare
by Aaron Ledgers
Summary: Meet Rose: an extremely antisocial teen who was kicked to the curb after her mother died. However, through an insane stroke of luck, she found herself living in a mansion with Phoebe Halliwell to find a cure for their insomnia. Unfortunately, even though the manor has a dark history, nobody takes Phoebe seriously when she realizes that bad things happen whenever Rose is left alone.
1. Prologue: My Sister's Keeper

**Prologue: My Sister's Keeper**

Something was wrong.

The moment my eyes fluttered open and I saw the time on my alarm clock, I knew something terrible had happened without even knowing why I knew: it was already almost time to get ready for school, but my mother hadn't woken me up even once the previous night. There had been no banging on the walls between our rooms… there had been no calls for help in the middle of the night… there had been no crying for me to come help her, or fervent apologies after I was there.

All of which meant that something had finally happened.

The moment I realized it, I felt a gentle wind brush my cheek and jolted upright in bed, breathing hard: the room was chilly, and gooseflesh formed on my body. It was an hour before dawn—the time when nothing moves and life merely waits for the first warm touches of sunlight to break across the Earth. My heart pounded and a terrible premonition gripped me: it felt like a shroud was lying over the world, and its darkest corner was hovering over my bedroom. I closed my eyes again, praying to God that time would slow down so I wouldn't have to go into my mother's room. I knew I was going to discover what had happened whether I wanted to or not.

Then again, I couldn't keep myself from pretending that everything was okay.

That is... until my elder sister's bloodcurdling scream split the air.

I instantly jumped out of bed and scrambled out from beneath my sheets, tripping like a klutz and clumsily falling onto the floor in a tangled heap; when I managed to crawl out of my nest of covers, my thigh-length hair slid across my small shoulders like a river of liquid satin and pooled on the floor. I had always been proud of my hair because it was the only thing on me that I considered to be truly beautiful… but sometimes, other people don't exactly see it that way.

My appearance draws either a lot of positive attention or a lot of _negative._

Still, don't get me wrong: it isn't as though being bullied by people bothers me all that much. I mean, I can take being shoved into the school lockers by a jerk who has too big of an ego; I can take being punched in the face by a girl who doesn't know me thanks to a stupid rumor. I can take being harassed by perverts in the halls and being mocked by the teachers in the few classes I actually _participate_ in. I can even take being abused. I can take anything because I'll always have my mother standing beside me... my mother, who loves me unconditionally despite my odd looks.

Or… at least, that's what I'd always believed up until now.

When I ran into my mother's bedroom, I saw my elder sister standing against the wall and crying against her husband's shoulder with shaking arms. Then my attention shifted to the sheer curtains around my mother's bed, and I felt a cold sensation sweep through me. Even though Jim told me to get out of the room like an ass, I stumbled over to my mother's bedside and parted the billowing curtain with shaking hands and large eyes.

At first, I thought she was only sleeping… but then I saw the rest and I knew she was gone.

She was bone white, her skin was like ice, and she was smiling. On a day that I was supposed to be happy, I had found myself all alone: my mother had passed away on my fifteenth birthday, leaving me an orphan for the second time in my life. I would never be loved by anyone after this... but honestly, after losing my mom, I didn't even want a set of fake replacement parents. I had learned a long time ago that an unusual appearance will draw the attention of everyone around you, regardless of how much you try to hide in the shadows: it's the cause of the harassment _and _flirtations that most girls deal with in day-to-day life.

However, my appearance was _extremely_ unusual... and it had been that way from the start.

I honestly think this world is kind of ironic: every single biting word and every single act of torment that people use against me is the result of pure stupidity. After all, I didn't exactly have a say in how I was born. None of them know who I really am, and deep down, I know they probably never will: in the end, I'm not identified by who I am as a person... I'm identified by the way I look. However, my mother had loved me regardless of my faults, so I hadn't cared about that.

My name is Lillian 'Malory' Primrose, and I'm a girl with a genetic disorder called albinism.

More accurately, a specific type of albinism most commonly referred to as Hermansky Pudlak Syndrome.

I've got the classic looks to match it, too: white hair, white eyelashes, white skin, a dangerous sensitivity to sunlight, little blood clotting... ya know, a typical freak.

I've lived in Chicago with my foster family for most of my life, but I was born in the southern part of Illinois: I don't remember my birth parents because they died when I was a year old. However, I _do_ have a foster sister... but she's ten years older than I am, and she doesn't exactly know how to act around me. I've always been abnormally quiet when it came to interacting with other people, even when I was a little girl, and every now and then I've heard her talking with her husband, James, about how creepy she thinks I am. She always gushes about how pretty my face is and how cute my eyes are when we're face to face, but I know she's lying since she hates everything about me. Just like I'm lying during the times when I'm forced to tell her I love her.

On top of that, she knows nothing about her husband's abusive actions towards me.

To her, he is the perfect man... but to me, he is a monster, and I honestly wish he would die.

That's how much I hate him, _and_ his devil spawn.

Nathaniel is my twelve-year-old cousin and 'Jimmy's' son, but he's not as innocent as he pretends to be. He has everything needed to pull off being an adorable little angel… everything except the actual behavior. He's a really nasty little thing who enjoys doing things like jerking on my hair, pulling my skirt down, and purposely breaking things so he can blame it on me with his 'perfect-little-angel' expression. I hate my sister's side of family so much that I vowed a long time ago not to speak around them unless it was necessary. If I'm going to be completely honest with you, I'm practically a mute whenever I'm around them.

School is pretty much the same story: I never talk, I never try to socialize, and I ignore the majority of my classmates.

I'm fifteen years old… but I'm also really tiny, and that gives people an advantage over me. If you don't understand what I mean and you need a clearer image, I'll put it like this: picture a small, extremely skinny girl with abnormally long white hair, long white eyelashes, and amethyst-colored eyes and you'll have an idea of what I look like. If you want a technical description, I'm four feet and eight inches tall, I weigh virtually nothing compared to other girls, and several guys in my freshman year made it a hobby to pick me up and throw me like a football because of how light my body was. If you still don't have an idea, tough luck: I tried my best.

In the end, there was only one person who I cared about enough to completely open up to.

There was only one person I adored throughout the years.

There was only one person who loved me as unconditionally as I loved her.

And that person… was my mother.

However, now my mother is dead… and I am all alone: her face will be peaceful and cold for the rest of eternity. I have only rule for myself, you know… and that rule is to never let anybody see me cry. To me, emotion is a form of weakness, and I avoid showing how I feel so people can't get the upper hand on me. However, in that moment, the pain of my loss was so great that I couldn't keep from crying: there was a river of tears streaming down my face as I held my mother's icy hand.

I cried.

I screamed for her to wake up.

I fought against Mary and Jim when paramedics took my mother's body away.

But in the end, my mother was still gone… and I was still alone.

I was all alone… forever.

Three months after the funeral took place, my life was upturned a second time.

I had been struggling in school because my sister had forced me to get a job after my mother's initial passing. In my mother's will, the house and everything in it had been left to my elder sister's husband; if you don't know, that basically meant all of my things now belonged to my sister, and there was nothing I could do about it. Mary had become almost evil after she'd gained that power over me. She had told me that I would end up in a foster home if I didn't get a job.

She'd stated quite clearly that she would kick me out if I didn't pay rent with the money I earned.

She had even threatened to burn all of my treasured belongings if I didn't do whatever she asked.

Mary didn't even live in the same house as I did... which is why I was so stunned when she appeared and told me that I had to pack my things since they wanted to sell the the house I had lived in my entire life. That was where I had found myself after getting home from my school: staring at my sister and her horrid family with a disbelieving expression on my face as I was told to get lost. It wasn't any wonder that I finally snapped after months of emotional stress.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked after she was done explaining everything I _had_ to do. "You can't be serious."

"You're already three days behind your initial payment, Rosie," Mary retorted, checking her nails and flicking her shoulder-length blonde hair out of her bright blue eyes. "You have to do as we say, okay? Remember our little deal?"

"Screw you," I retorted coldly, walking into the living room and picking up the dishes that had been left there: I felt anger building inside my chest when I looked into the fridge and realized that they'd been eating the food I had bought with my own money. There was practically nothing left, and I was broke until I got my next paycheck: I instantly stormed past my sister and walked up the stairs with a brisk gait. "This is my home! You're not taking it away from me!"

"Read the will, Rose," Mary snapped, sweeping up the stairs after me and waving the will around like a flag; I set my school bag down in my bedroom and shoved past her to head downstairs once again. "It says, in plain sight, that the executor shall have the right to dispose of any and _all_ property left to him, in any way he sees fit! You have no choice but to listen!"

"_He_ is not even real _family_!" I snapped, gesturing at Jim with an expression of hatred on my pale face; he merely smirked and cocked his head back, looking relaxed and completely at ease in my mother's rocking chair. "I refuse to leave!"

"He's clearly not blood related," Mary enunciated, looking as though she were dealing with a moron, "but Mother must have thought James was way more capable of dealing with these unpleasant details than you were, Rose. The will is proof!"

Just like that, I whipped around and stomped up to her with an outraged expression on my face.

"Unpleasant details?!" I shrieked, glaring up at her with glittering violet eyes. "_Unpleasant details?!_ What do you think _I've_ been dealing with for the past eleven years, Marianne?! I've cooked, I've cleaned, and I've done everything I could possibly do to take care of our mother! What would she think if she knew that I was being blackmailed by my own sister?!"

"You're not even her real daughter, you white-haired _freak,"_ Jim sneered, looking smug when I narrowed my eyes. "You shouldn't even be bitching about this, _Lillian,_ because the way I see it... well, you're even _less_ a part of this family than _I_ am."

"Oh, Jim, that's so cute!" I retorted sweetly, cocking my head with a sly expression. "I'm so glad that you've finally acknowledged the fact that _my_ mother _chose_ to raise me! After all, _your_ mom obviously didn't get to _make_ that decision, because no mother would disown her child unless he was really nasty inside."

His smirk turned into a glare because there was no way for him to respond: I was completely correct since his own mother had disowned him at twenty-three.

I flipped up my middle finger in triumph and smiled when he narrowed his eyes at me.

"Look, Rosie, stop with the hostility," Mary sighed, coming up and putting a large hand on my shoulder. "We're trying to help you."

I instantly jerked away from her touch and glared up at her with a warning expression on my face.

She backed off a bit since I'd only looked at her that way once before, on the day her husband had hit me for the very first time.

_"Don't_ help me," I snapped, tossing my long white hair out of my eyes. "I don't _want_ it!"

Around that moment, Nathan ran one of his toy trucks into my mother's collection of porcelain cats: when one of them fell over and shattered on the wooden floor, I looked at the pieces with an aching throb in my chest. I still remembered the expression on my mom's face when I had given them to her on her last birthday: seeing the cats being destroyed by Mommy's Little Monster was a severe blow to my self-esteem and it had honestly tarnished some of the memories I still held dear.

"Honey, don't do that," Mary sighed, making me feel sick when she only tapped his hand. "Go sit on the couch, okay?"

Nathan did what he was told, but afterwards he discretely stuck his tongue out at me and laughed under his breath.

_Little monster,_ I silently huffed, turning my violet eyes away from his piggish blue ones. _Don't worry... Karma is a bigger bitch than me, trust me._

"When we sell the house, we'll all make a few bucks," Marianne stated, walking up to me and holding out a set of keys. "Also… we know how much you loved Mom's car, so we're giving it to you."

I stared at the keys in disbelief.

"You're taking away my home... and giving me a _twenty year old car?"_ I deadpanned, looking into her eyes with a stunned expression. "Are you kidding me?! Who _am _I to you people?! Don't you understand that I literally have nowhere to go?! I'm only fifteen years old, Mary! I'm not old enough to drive, I can't get a job without permission from my school, and I can't even buy a house on my own! If you take this place away from me, I will have _nothing!_ I'll... I'll... _no!_ Just, no! You can't!"

"Look, Rose… we've been talking as a family," Mary sighed, putting her hands on Jim's shoulders and finally looking at me with eager blue eyes. "James and I are always busy, and we could use someone to help us around the house. I'll admit that you're an excellent cook... and you're amazing when it comes to cleaning, but most of all you're great with kids. The two of us would love it if you'd come help us look after Nathan."

For a moment, I was actually taken aback by my sister's offer... mostly because of how sincere her smile was for once. I had never seen her look at me like a sister before... and if I was going to be honest, I actually considered accepting the offer for a few moments. However, a sharp banging noise on the wall made me jump and I whirled around as my heart fluttered. Due to the irrational hope surging through me, I had been expecting to see my mother sitting on the couch behind me... but when I saw that it was only Nathan, I felt extremely disappointed and the fight left me. Then I saw what he was doing and my stomach lurched.

He was standing upright on the couch with my mother's walking cane in his hands.

He banged three more times, then looked straight at me with the most angelic smile in the world.

"Auntie Rose, help me, I gotta pee!" he called, pouting in a taunting manner. "Please! It's dark in here!"

When he started laughing as if it were the funniest thing in the world, I pressed my lips together as bile rose up in my throat.

I honestly had to fight like a champ to keep from crying because of his actions. He was mocking my mother... the nasty little bastard was actually mocking the way my mother had always cried for me in the middle of the night. He was slandering all of the efforts I had taken to help her. My sister must have seen momentary flashes of my twisted emotions sweeping across my face, because her eyes widened and she immediately gave her son a glare to end all glares. He hastily stopped laughing and pouted at the ground with big blue eyes, gently putting the cane down and acting as though he'd been the baddest boy in the world.

However, he smirked a bit from beneath his long blonde lashes and stuck his tongue out at me... ever so slightly.

I closed my eyes to hide the tears that were burning them and swallowed hard.

I was trying my hardest to keep from showing them any emotion.

"Get out of my home," I stated quietly, struggling to keep my voice from breaking. "Get out… all of you, just… go."

"Suit yourself," Jim sighed, waving the house keys with a big, mocking smile. "We'll let the courts handle it."

"The courts can't do anything until four weeks have passed, you stupid asshole," I retorted, opening my eyes and looking at him with a cold expression. "I looked up all the information I needed just in case something like this happened: I was paying money to live here, so by the law of Illinois, I have four weeks left to stay."

"Bullshit," Jim snorted, although he did look a bit uncertain. "There's no way you're staying here for four more weeks!"

"Oh? Well, if you don't believe me, here are all of the papers I printed out from the governmental website," I hissed, grabbing the packet off the kitchen counter and thrusting it under his nose. "I have four weeks starting today since you literally told me to pack my things half an hour ago! However, by the time you're allowed to sell this property, everything I personally own will be gone: that includes all of my clothes, the laptop I got for my birthday, the necklace that our Mom left me in the will, and any photos with me in them. Sadly, every photo that was taken after my adoption actually _has_ me in it, so by the right and force of law... they're _all_ mine. You skipped out on all the photo sessions, remember? You can't legally let out a protest against me taking the family photos."

"You can't take them!" Jim snarled, enraged by the fact that I was _winning_ the argument. "There's no way that stuff belongs to you!"

"Yes, I can, and yes, it does," I instantly retorted, flipping to the page I needed before holding the pamphlet up with fiercely cold eyes. "It says right here: '_in the case of a loved one's death, many minors are left in the presence of a home that no longer belong to their family; if, and when, certain circumstances considering the ownership of the household arise, all household belongings initially owned by the minor are to remain with him or her. This includes all photographs, clothing, and worldly possessions._' My things are mine, you condescending jackass! You're not stealing my stuff from me! Now, if you're through, get the hell out of my mother's house.''

"Fine! You can keep your nasty shit, but if you take anything _else_ when you leave, you'll have the cops on your ass," Jim bellowed, finally standing up and stomping towards the door when I lowered the papers in triumph. "Be gone in four weeks, you ugly freak! Come on, Mary, let's go!"

I watched with shaking shoulders as Marianne took Nathan's hand and followed him with an uncertain expression.

However, just before she walked out the door, she turned to look at me.

"Come live with us, Rose," she stated seriously, biting her lip with a somewhat nervous expression. "You have no idea how hard it is out there."

"No, Mary," I replied, looking at her with a broken smile. _"You_ have no idea how hard it was in _here_."

My sister glared daggers at me for a moment, but then her eyes flicked to look over my shoulder and her angry expression suddenly changed: her eyes became huge in the same moment that my white hair was swept forward by a gentle wind. This breeze somehow felt very calming to my frazzled nerves, but my sister's breathing became erratic and she started backing away from me. I looked up at her in confusion when she stumbled out the door with her perplexed-looking son: she had left in an almost fearful manner.

I hesitantly looked down at my billowing hair and touched it.

Was there something strange on me, like a huge spider or a nasty bug?

If so, I didn't see anything...

However, only a moment later, the breeze abruptly stopped and I felt two light hands on my shoulders. When I jumped and whirled around, there was nobody there and the window was closed tightly. I blinked and touched both of my small shoulders in confusion... because instead of feeling scared, I felt calm and warm without even knowing why. When the curtains leading to my mother's room billowed in another gentle wind, I jumped backwards with an abrupt start. Then I slowly made my way over to the sheer curtains and pushed them apart, feeling an ache sweeping through me.

Her room had been left untouched since the day of her passing.

I slowly made my way over to her bedside and looked down at it with watering eyes; then, feeling lost and alone, I sank down on her bed and pressed my cheek against her pillow with a shaky sigh. In the days after she'd died, I had often lain here because it had smelled like her. My mom had always smelled like lavender and warmth… but now, even that semblance of comfort was gone. The only thing I had left of her were memories of the times we'd shared together.

Even now, I could still remember the very first time I saw her.

I had been two years old and sitting with another toddler in the orphanage playroom with a bunch of other little kids. Then I'd looked up, up, up so high… and I had seen the most beautiful lady in the entire world standing right in front of me. She had been looking down at my snowy hair with such a big smile... and she had looked so beautiful to my young eyes. In that moment, I had said my very first word.

_"Mama."_

She had been kind of startled by it, but when all of the nursery workers had gone nuts with pleasant surprise and girlish excitement, she had gotten revved up enough to adopt me. I had apparently spoken my first word to a woman who hadn't even known me until that very moment, but that one word is what cemented the bond between the two of us. When I was growing up, she had told me almost constantly that I was a lucky girl since I had been born as a _beautiful_ albino. Most albinos, male or female, apparently weren't graced with good looks or even thick hair. Every day, she told me I looked like an angel… every day, she told me that she loved me as much as any mother could. However, when she got sick, I returned that love and took care of her: I'd vowed to _show_ her how much I loved her.

Unfortunately, the sickness hadn't gone away.

She'd only gotten worse, and no matter how hard I'd tried, it hadn't been good enough: I honestly felt like it was my fault that she had passed away. Whenever I was alone, my thoughts would drift to all the ways I could have prevented her death: I would imagine sitting with her and keeping her awake… I would picture singing the lullaby she taught me and both of us laughing… I would beat myself up for not being diligent and checking on her like I should have.

I did all of that, but in the end… my mother was still gone, and she wouldn't be coming back.

My love hadn't been strong enough to save her.

I slowly started crying and curled up into a little ball as I lay there with my face buried in her pillow; my long white hair was splayed across her purple and gold blanket. I missed her so badly that it was still burning my heart… it was the kind of pain that gave no amount of relief. Mostly because reality was the cause of it.

I wanted my mom back... so badly.

And the realization that nobody cared about me any longer only made it worse.

After I had cried for about an hour, I hesitantly wiped my puffy eyes and sat up... then I looked at the necklace she'd left me in her will: it was a simple thing, but at the same time very beautiful. It had three sets of dark chains that draped across the throat in an intricate web of metal, and the pendant on it was very, very old: it was mostly metal, but a large, iridescent white stone had been embedded in the center of it. The stone itself had been engraved with the carving of a flower.

Ironically enough, when I'd looked up the flower online, I'd found my namesake: a primrose.

That's also a kind of a story in itself, now that I think about it.

You see, my foster family's last name was Malory, but my mom had taken a liking to my birth parents' last name because of how unusual and pretty it was. So, while I was growing up, she had always told me that while I was her adorable little girl... I had to be proud of my last name, even if it wasn't the same as hers. For some reason, it had always made me feel special to know that my foster mother had loved even my _true_ last name. Sniffling, I grabbed the necklace with gentle fingers and held it against my chest; then I glanced up at the framed words above my mother's bed. She had always loved little quotes like the one I was looking at… but this particular one held special meaning to me because my mother had started knitting it by hand the day after she adopted me.

'_A place for everything, and everything in its place.'_

After standing up, I made my way out of my mother's room and headed for the dining room to look in the full-length mirror. Two pinkish violet eyes that were much too large for such a pale face stared back at me when I examined myself; the soft silver locks that were framing my cheeks looked—as always—like a ragged satin curtain that had once seen better days. Too small of a nose made my entire face seem pinched, and my lips were _way_ too full for someone with high cheekbones.

They were fat like Angelina Jolie's, but it looked grotesque on a face like mine.

After lifting my hair up, I fastened the necklace around my throat and looked at it; however, the pendant looked kind of weird resting on my uniform's neck scarf, so I tucked it beneath my blazer. I finally turned away from the mirror and was just about to head upstairs when the phone hanging on the kitchen wall suddenly rang.

I paused before heading over to the phone and picking it up.

"Hello?" I asked in a polite tone.

"_Is_ _this Lillian Malory?"_ a male voice inquired, making me quirk an eyebrow.

"Yes, this is Lily," I hesitantly confirmed, feeling a little surprised.

"_I'm in luck,"_ the male voice sighed, sounding relieved. "_My name is Doctor Maero, and_ _I have an offer to make: my company is looking for people that fit the criteria for an experiment. I'm trying to come up with a psychological cure for insomnia. We received your information, as well as the sizable donation to pay for a school tutor, by a woman named Cecelia Malory who signed you up for this program a while back."_

"Cecelia Malory is my mother's name," I noted, feeling a little confused. "Um... sir, she's no longer alive. Do you have any proof that this isn't a scam?"

_"Yep: look in the paper,"_ Dr. Maero cheerily replied. _"Page two, second column."_

I blinked and tucked the phone under my shoulder before grabbing the morning newspaper off of the counter and flipping it open to page two. I immediately straightened in surprise: there really_was_ an advertisement in the second column reserved for the people who had trouble sleeping. However, the part that caught my attention was the fact that they were also willing to pay the test subjects almost nine hundred dollars a week on top of giving them free boarding and cooking.

I immediately felt my heart lift towards the sky, and I actually smiled for the first time in days.

"I see it," I whispered, feeling as though I were trapped in a dream. "It's an experiment for people with insomnia? Wait, what makes you think I qualify for this?"

"_That part has already been cleared up,"_ Dr. Maero laughed, sounding exceedingly delighted by my cooperation "_All I need you to do is send in the rest of your medical records, as well as a photograph of yourself, and everything will be set. I hope we'll see you soon, Lillian."_

And with that, he hung up; I instantly dropped the phone and bolted for my bedroom to find a picture: I wasn't stupid enough to turn down such an amazing opportunity, especially if my mother had signed me up. Plus… after my mother had passed away, I had been sleeping so little that it was killing me. If this guy could help me get a decent night's rest, I'd do anything. And that, my friends... is how I found myself enduring the most terrifying experiences in my entire life.

By accepting a sketchy phone call.

It's really weird how fate decides to work, isn't it?

To think... if I'd never answered that call, I never would have met a real life witch, or fallen in love with a demon, or even had contact with things from beyond the grave.

Until then, my life could have been sad, but simple.

That one call changed my life forever... but hey, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Now, what's that phrase all the disney movies use?

Oh, right...

Once upon a time, not so long ago...


	2. Chapter 1: Creepy is Perfect

**Chapter One: Creepy is the Name of Perfection**

I know this is my story, and I know that I should probably be 'blah-blah'ing about the crazy stuff that started happening to me, but if I'm going to be honest, a vast majority of what I'm about to tell you probably won't make sense unless I start with what was going on before it. You know, the same way that it didn't make sense to me at first. It starts with a not-so-casual dinner in San Francisco, and three women who all had the same last name.

You know... the Halliwell sisters.

"Phoebe, supper is ready!" a strikingly beautiful woman with long brown hair happily called, turning the stove off and setting the plates on the table before unhooking her apron; after hanging it on the rack, she turned and opened the cabinet above the stove until everyone shuffled into the room. When a handsome man with a shock of blonde hair walked into the room, she gave him an adorable peck on the cheek before setting the food out. "I hope you like it... special dish!"

"I'm sure we will," another woman with olive skin, tired brown eyes, and curly hair sighed; she rolled her eyes as she waltzed around the table and flopped down with an exhausted expression. "After you became a mom, your cooking went off the charts."

"Oh, hush," the first woman scolded, pouting a little before looking at her sister suspiciously. "Just eat and be happy."

When her husband and her sister sat down, the tired-looking brunette smiled... but then, one more person walked into the room knocked a vase off the shelf.

Her eyes flashed open wide.

"Crap!" she gasped, flinging her hands out without thinking; almost instantaneously, the vase froze in mid-air and she hurried over to it, ignoring the confused expression on the face of the little girl who'd just walked into the dining room. The olive-skinned woman tiredly munched on a celery stick as her elder sister put the accident-waiting-to-happen back in place. Not long after that, time resumed, and things returned to normal. "Okay... cleanup crisis averted."

"Who was it who always whined about personal gain?" Phoebe inquired, quirking an eyebrow when her the woman glared. "Don't give me that look."

"Mommy, I'm sorry," the little girl mumbled, looking up with the biggest honey brown eyes anyone could have ever seen. "I didn't mean to."

"Melinda, it's okay... just be more careful next time," Piper soothed, patting her backside. "Now get to the table and eat up!"

"Yes, eat up," Phoebe sighed, setting her celery stick down and scooting away. "Auntie is gonna go lie down for a bit."

"Wait, aren't you hungry?" Leo carefully demanded, giving her a serious expression; when she stiffened in dismay, he glanced at his wife. "Piper..."

"Phoebe, you didn't even touch anything, let alone eat it!" Piper stated, sounding somewhat offended. "Please, just sit down and eat. We know you're tired, but you need to keep yourself healthy. If ya hadn't noticed, being a witch hasn't changed that."

For a long moment Leo glanced back and forth between the two of them, but then he sighed and rubbed his eyes before glancing at his sister-in-law.

"It was the dream again, wasn't it?" he demanded, making both women sigh. "The dream that's been keeping you up every night since...?"

He paused and glanced at his seven-year-old daughter, who was happily digging into her lasagna, before giving his wife a look.

"Yep," Phoebe grumpily mumbled, watching as her sister turned around and hesitantly slid into the seat across the table. "It's the dream again."

"Well, what do we do?" Leo inquired, folding his hands. "You haven't gotten any sleep at all lately."

"It would help if I could actually remember the dream, you know," Phoebe sighed, rubbing her eyes. "I swear, I haven't felt this tired since college."

"What bothers me is that Paige and I don't seem to be having the same dream as you," Piper added, tilting her head back with a sigh. "I'm kinda worried about you."

"Speaking of Paige, where is she?" Leo asked, glancing around the room with a frown. "Haven't seen her since this morning."

"She left with tall, dark, and handsome around three for an exclusive night out," Phoebe sighed, pushing her plate away and setting her head down; the seven-year-old sitting across the table stared at her with bright eyes, then went back to eating her food. "God, I'd do anything for some sleep. Is there some sort of sleeping spell we could come up with?"

"No, thanks," Piper instantly coughed, lifting her arms. "Nuh-uh: I'm not turning you into sleeping beauty over this."

"I've gone nearly a year now without a decent sleep, honey," Phoebe deadpanned, lifting her head with bloodshot eyes. "At this point, I'd prefer to be a sleeping beauty than a wakeful bi -"

"Ah-ah! Not in front of my daughter!" Piper interrupted, gesturing at the little girl who was watching them with a curious expression. "Language, Phoebes."

Right around that moment, however, history was set in motion... because Paige opened the front door and ran into the room with delight on her face.

"Hey!" she shouted, making the grumpy-looking women jump. "I did it! Oh, man, you are gonna be _so_ glad!"

"What did you do?" they chorused in a practically identical monotone.

"I managed to book Phoebe an amazing spot in a gorgeous mansion! She's going to Illinois for six months next week!" Paige gleefully explained, making both woman jump upright and stare at her in shock; even Leo seemed rather startled by it, and he stared at her more intently. "Okay, look... I know you're probably upset, but this is a once in a life-time offer, and while I know I should have told you, I didn't because..."

"You 'thought we'd say no'," Piper finished, sitting back in exasperation. "Great. Continue explaining so I know how hard I'll need to bang my head on the wall."

"Seriously, it's a great offer: and get this!" Paige whispered, leaning forward with a hopeful grin. "She'll be getting paid six hundred dollars a week to live there! She still needs a job after what happened at P3, right?! It's perfect from every angle I could think of!"

Both women stared at her in disbelief.

"Are you serious?" Phoebe asked, giving her a 'wtf' expression. _"I _get paid six hundred dollars a week to stay in a mansion? Okay, Paige, look... I may not be the smartest girl on the block when it comes to jobs, but that right there sounds a little ridiculous!"

"More like nuts and extremely shady," Piper countered, shaking her head. "You didn't give any credit card info out, did you? Because aside from the internet, who would be crazy enough to attempt going through with it? More importantly, who the hell would be insane enough to pay people six hundred dollars a week to stay in a house that most people would kill for?!"

"Oh, I don't know... maybe a certain famous doctor who wants to find a cure for insomnia?" Paige suggested, clasping her hands behind her back when her sisters gawked in surprise. "Look, I'm dead serious! I went to the police department and pulled some strings, but his records came up clean and everything! It's a safe plan, trust me! Anyway, his name is Doctor Maero Allistair: he's famous all over the world for finding psychological and physical cures for things nobody even knew about until he named them! He's seriously trying to come up with a cure for insomnia: I signed Phoebe up six months ago."

"You did what?" Phoebe choked, staring at her half-sister with enormous eyes. "No! No way! No, no, no, no, no! Nu-uh!"

"Paige, she can't just drop everything and leave for six months with only a week's notice!" Piper exclaimed, rising to her feet; she glanced at her daughter and sighed, "Melinda, honey, please have Daddy take your plate into the living room while Mommy has a talk."

"Yes, Ma'am," she piped, picking up her plate and handing it to Leo, who glanced at them with raised eyebrows before taking the food and making himself scarce.

"What were you thinking?" Phoebe asked, folding her arms with an incredulous expression. "Are you insane? How the hell could I possibly leave the state, and more importantly, all of _you,_ to go live at some sketchy mansion for six months when demons, warlocks, and who the hell knows what else could pop in at any time?!"

"Plus, aside from the time when she left for New York, Pheobe's never been away for longer than a week!" Piper added, pacing back and forth with anxiety. "Really, Paige, this was irresponsible!"

"No, it wasn't: I've been planning this for weeks, okay? I took every precaution necessary!" she muttered, taking a deep breath with earnest green eyes. "Phoebe has practically become a zombie because of how little she's sleeping, and since I already called your husband at work, he already knows you're taking a vacation."

"WHAT?!" Phoebe squeaked, staring at the redhead with startled eyes; she instantly clutched her forehead and started breathing erratically. "Aspirin... I need an aspirin. Right now. Someone get me an aspirin."

"Why?" Piper demanded, staring her half-sister down. "Why would you do this? Do you not realize that she can't help us if she's halfway across the country?"

"Well, she's almost been toast several times over the last two weeks because her exhaustion is affecting her abilities," Paige retorted, finally getting a little angry. "Right now, the only thing we should be worried about is helping her get some sleep. And that is exactly why she's going on this trip. Just think of it as an extended vacation."

And that, my friends, is how that little story ended and mine truly began.

Well, not before more arguing and other fun stuff, of course, but... you get the idea.

After all, if you're reading this, you probably know more about those particular sisters than I ever will.

Seven days after that sisterly argument had long-since been done and over with, my things had been packed, I had transferred out of my private high school, and my English teacher was driving me towards the place I would be staying at: a plot of land called Chastity Gardens. My teacher was quiet, however... and since I was no longer a student of hers, I didn't see a reason to try and hold a conversation: the woman had never really liked me in the first place because I'd never talked in class, even when I was asked a direct question. I had always ignored her and focused on my schoolwork.

Everyone thinks I'm creepy because of how quiet I am, but I really don't care: after all, I think _they're_ annoying because of how _loud_ they are.

There are two sides to every story.

I kept my eyes trained on the autumn scenery flying past the window; however, my former teacher was staring at me since there was a smile on my face for the first time she'd ever seen. At the moment, I was humming the lullaby that my mother had taught me... whenever I felt excited or happy, that beautiful little tune would end up coming out of my mouth in some way or another. There were no words to the melody, and it was actually a rather simple song, but it always made me feel better because it was one of the only things I still had to remember my mom. It had been a long drive, but we were almost there now, and I was extremely excited.

"Are you sure you want to do this…?" my teacher finally asked, looking at me with firm brown eyes in the rear-view mirror. "This area has a very woodsy feeling to it and the town we just passed is almost sixteen miles away from the place you'll be staying. It's... really kind of sketchy, Miss. Malory..."

"I'm sure about this," I replied, looking at her with no expression at all. "Life has been too hard for me back in Chicago... and after this is over, I'll have enough money to support myself for at least a year. If I manage to find a job and a place, I'll re-enroll myself back into high school and continue living on my own."

"Well, as long as you're sure," the woman sighed, looking at the road ahead before her eyebrows lifted in shock. "Oh, my God! Is _that_ where you're going to be staying?!"

"Where?" I asked, instantly leaning forward and peering over her shoulder. However, my violet eyes widened with an abrupt jolt of shock when I saw that we were driving towards an enormous set of metal gates. The bars had been completely overgrown with vines, and the walls around them had been carved with beautiful designs that stretched for several miles in every direction; however, that wasn't what had my attention... it was the house behind it that really got to me.

Only… _house_ wasn't exactly the right term.

Chastity Gardens was more like an enormous castle: from what I could see, it had seven floors, beautiful spires, and it stretched out across the land as far as I could see... in fact, the huge concrete wall that surrounded the property was so big that it actually faded away in the horizon. I gaped at the huge expanse of the grounds with large violet eyes, and I knew for a fact that my teacher was doing the same exact thing: this place was definitely my destination, but I hadn't really expected it to be so big.

The sight of it was absolutely incredible.

"Wow..." I deadpanned, closing my mouth with a few blinks of shock. "When I heard the word 'mansion' I pictured a ten bedroom house with three bathrooms."

I didn't even notice when my teacher stopped the car and motioned for me to get out because of how shocked I was.

"This is where I'm supposed to drop you off," the woman murmured, still gawking at the mansion with enormous eyes. "Goodbye."

"Bye, Miss McKinsie," I sighed, shouldering my three duffel bags and getting out of her car. "Drive safely."

"I will," she murmured, waving before she carefully did a U-turn and drove away; I slowly walked up to the gates and pressed my hands against the bars when she was gone, rattling them with a confused expression on my face. There were several thick chains keeping the gates closed, but my attention was mostly fixed on the buildings and spires that rested behind them: there were so many beautifully carved windows that I kind of felt entranced. I put a hand on the bars, trying to ignore the cold wind that was sweeping through my long silver hair; however, I shivered when the breeze made my skirt balloon in an unpleasantly chilly manner.

I hated skirts and dresses for that reason alone.

Another cold breeze suddenly swept through the trees as I stared up at the mansion.

When nobody came outside, I turned around and glanced at the scenery.

"What do you want?" a man suddenly barked, making me jump with a squeak of surprise. "This is private property!"

I whirled around with a start and blinked rapidly when I saw a white-haired man staring at me with intense grey eyes. He had a scraggly look about him, and I felt kind of intimidated by his appearance. It wasn't every day that someone gives you a crooked version of the stink-eye.

"A-a-are you Mr. Dudley?" I stammered, swallowing as he looked at me. "You're Mr. Dudley the caretaker, right?"

"Yeah, I'm Mr. Dudley the caretaker," he sighed, nodding in an exaggerated manner. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, uh, I'm with Doctor Maero's insomnia group," I hesitantly explained, shivering a little as I hefted my bags. "I'm supposed to see Mrs. Dudley, so… um, is she here? My ride already left, and I live on the other side of the state… so… yeah."

"Is she here?" the man snorted, already unlocking the chains. "Well, she's my wife, so what do _you_ think?"

I watched as he took off six different padlocks and pulled the chains away from the gate.

"Why do you need so many chains?" I asked, looking up at him with a confused expression; I felt a little unnerved when he paused and looked at me with a cocked eyebrow... mostly because of the strange way his eyes gleamed. I instantly felt a surge of dislike sweep through me: he gave off a really creepy vibe.

"That's a good question," the man stated thoughtfully, undoing the chains a bit more slowly as he looked at my gleaming hair and gemstone irises. "You know, what is it about fences that makes people feel safe? The people living on both sides look at this locked gate and feel better all around... why do you think that is, little girl?"

"I don't know," I warily replied, watching as he opened the gates and stepped aside. "Nobody told me anything like that, honestly..."

When he rolled his eyes waved me on, I hesitantly began making my way down the driveway; I couldn't stop staring at the enormous spires, even when the wind blew my hair and clothes around in a wild manner. I became increasingly amazed as I drew closer to the front doors: the more I looked at the building, the more I noticed about it. I could see more nooks and carvings… more detail. It was an impressive structure, and it made me understand how Belle must have felt after walking into the Beast's castle.

I made my way into the area where the front doors were located. Taking a deep breath, I walked up to them and stood up on my tip-toes to grab the knocker.

Then, I hauled back and slammed it three times against the wood before jumping away with an uneasy expression on my face

"Hello?" I neutrally called, leaning back to stare at the colossal doors with wondering eyes. "Mrs. Dudley?"

There was no answer, so I reached up to grab the knocker again; however, somehow I lost my balance and fell against the door... but when it opened on its own, I let out a startled gasp and backed away from it. For some reason, it was already open... and that made me feel uneasy. I took a steadying breath and shook my silver hair out of my eyes before I peered through the crack in the door. After waiting a moment, I opened it a bit further and leaned inside, looking around with apprehensive violet eyes.

"Hello?" I called a little more timidly, peering around with an unnerved expression. "Mrs. Dudley? Are you here?"

The moment I stepped inside, my eyes widened and I gaped: the entrance area to the house was absolutely gorgeous. The floor was made of marble that had been tinted with autumnal colors, and there were magnificent carvings resting on several pedestals around the room: the colors around me consisted of very dark reds and varying shades of gold. I suddenly had a very disconcerting feeling that I had somehow returned home after being away for an abnormally long time.

After hooking a strand of hair behind my ear to keep it out of my face, I hefted my bags and tiptoed over to the nearest door.

"Mrs. Dudley…?" I called, feeling as though I were walking around in a library: the house gave off the need to keep quiet. I tried to peer into the room from where I was standing, but all I could see through the door was a carpeted staircase that rested far across a great expanse of floor. I was about to head through it when I felt a strange prickling sensation and the air around me unexpectedly turned cold: for a split second, I thought I heard a child giggling quietly and turned around.

Oddly enough, I didn't see anything behind me.

"Hello?" I called, looking around for the child I'd definitely heard. "Is anybody there...?"

A faint knocking noise answered my question: I immediately looked to my left and saw another open door, so I hefted my bags and made my way towards it despite the odd feeling I was getting from the room I was in. I honestly didn't know why… but I actually felt a little disturbed by what was around me the farther I walked. When I opened the cracked door, I nearly had a heart attack because I found myself coming face to face with something black and unnatural.

Then I realized I was staring at a black stone carving of a child being held by a crying woman: I blinked rapidly and rubbed my chest with a breath of relief as I moved around it, not really knowing how to cope with the nervousness I was experiencing. I followed the knocking noise down a dimly lit hallway, noticing that it seemed to be curving: the colors in this area ranged from being black to light grey, and the lights gave off a white glow instead of a yellow one.

Somehow, I had a feeling that this part of the hall was darker in more ways than just one, but I still followed the noises down it.

I finally spotted an open door a little ways down the hall and hesitantly made my way over to it, ignoring the feeling of my long hair sliding against my back as I reached for the handle. However, before I could even grab the knob and push on it, the door swung open and a skinny woman holding a bloody butcher knife stepped forward.

"_Holy sh_—!" I squeaked, flinching backwards in shock. "I… I-I… um, I'm, uh… Lillian Malory! I'm, uh, with—!"

"Doctor Maero's group," the woman stated curtly, rubbing a cloth over the bloodied blade. "You're the first."

"Y-y-yeah," I stammered, staring at the huge knife with large violet eyes. "I'd heard a sound, so…"

"Well… it's make the dinner, or answer the door," the old woman stated, setting the blade down on the counter. "I can't do both. Come, I'll show you to your room."

"O-okay," I whispered, swallowing the lump in my throat before I followed her down the hall. "This place is huge..."

When she led me through another doorway, it was in that moment that I realized just how big the mansion was. The room I had just entered had a domed ceiling that stretched nearly two stories up, and several gorgeous chandeliers hung from it. When Mrs. Dudley turned to head up a mammoth set of stairs, the temperature dropped and I felt a soft tug on my hair... then I heard an eerie giggle. I instantly whirled around and clamped a hand on my hair, glancing around for the mischievous prankster, but once again, nobody was there. However, for some reason, my eyes were inexplicably drawn to the huge fireplace resting against one of the far walls: it had two gorgeous lion carvings resting above the mantle, and the inside of the fireplace was so large that it dwarfed my entire bedroom back in northern Illinois.

The fireplace was a masterpiece, but... I didn't like it.

There was something very _off_ about it... and it was something that _really_ creeped me out.

I jumped when I heard Mrs. Dudley purposely clearing her throat: she'd paused halfway up the carpeted stairs and had turned to stare at me, so I hurried up after her with a sincerely apologetic expression on my face. I had to get this done and over with: there would probably be plenty of time to go exploring later. However, when I made it to the top of the stairs, I saw the painting. The painting itself took up the entire wall in front of the staircase, so it was impossible to miss.

My long hair swirled around my torso when I skidded to a halt, eyes widening as a knotting sensation ripped through my stomach: even though I didn't really understand the reasons behind my emotions, I suddenly wanted to run away from mansion when I saw what was being portrayed in the image. It was so simple, though... which is why I didn't understand the terror it made me feel. The painting depicted an old albino man who was standing in front of a large chair with both of his gnarled hands resting on a cane: he had snow white hair, bright red eyes, and he almost seemed to be glaring out of his portrait with an expression of grim hatred. I felt my throat locking up as I stared at his painted crimson eyes: they were the eyes of a bloodthirsty killer… or a murderer.

I felt a cold draft from somewhere and heard another giggle.

Nothing was behind me... and it made me shiver a bit.

_It's probably just the building settling, _I reasoned, weighing the odds and feeling immediately reassured. _This place is mammoth, so it must make lots of weird noises._

The stairs themselves branched off in two different directions: Mrs. Dudley had headed down the right hall, but I was left standing there at the foot of the stairs with all of this unidentifiable fear coursing through me. However, despite my earlier reasoning, I could have sworn that I heard yet another giggle coming from somewhere down the left hallway; I instantly moved forward in an attempt to catch the child in the act, but when I looked down it, there were no mischievous children hiding behind anything.

I hesitantly began to wonder if I was going crazy, since I'd definitely heard something like a voice... hadn't I?

However, when Mrs. Dudley cleared her throat again, I practically ran down the hall after her.

I followed the woman through three more sets of corridors before she made any sort of comment to me. I was honestly kind of relieved: the house was absolutely amazing and it had a rare kind of beauty. Although, at the same time… it also gave off an extremely disturbing feeling.

"You're staying in the red room," Mrs. Dudley explained, pulling a key out of her pocket and unlocking one of the two doors on the left side of the hallway. "You're the first visitors we've had since Mr. Kraine died."

When she opened the door and allowed me to come in, my breath was taken away.

I literally dropped my bags and stared in sheer awe as I stepped into my soon-to-be bedroom. The ceiling was curved into a dome like the entrance hall I'd seen earlier, but the beams holding it up were curved _and_ carved into graceful positions: there wasn't a single legitimate corner because they all curved when they reached the ceiling. Then there were the balconies: each of the floor-to-ceiling windows had sheer white curtains made of an abnormally light material called babushka. There were beautiful carvings of infants and cherubic children all over the room: even the fireplace by the wall had a row of carved children's heads resting right above it. The bed was an old-fashioned English four-poster with a velvet curtain resting around each of the open sides: above it were more of the beautifully carved children's heads.

As well as some very odd-looking chandelier spikes.

It was then that I realized that I was only staring at one part of the room: the area where I was going to sleep was only half of the area I was looking at. Through a set of double archways was a carpeted living area complete with a plush set of furniture, a dining table, a writing desk, another fireplace, and a set of large doors.

I slowly walked up to the fireplace and touched the carvings.

"This is a beautiful bedroom," I squeaked, looking at Mrs. Dudley with stunned eyes. "It's totally amazing!"

"I know..." the woman muttered, looking at the carvings with stoic brown eyes. "It's a lot to dust."

"I've never seen this kind of beauty," I murmured, setting my bags down on the bed and walking around with an amazed expression. "You must love working here…"

"I set dinner on the dining room sideboard at six," Mrs. Dudley stated curtly, ignoring my statements about the house. "You can serve yourselves. Breakfast is ready at nine: I don't wait on people. I don't stay after dinner, not after it begins to get dark… I leave before dark comes. I live in town, thirteen miles away, so there won't be anyone around if you need help of any sort. We wouldn't be able to hear you, even if you tried screaming in the night... in the dark..."

I stopped gaping at the bathroom in order to look at her, furrowing my brows.

"Why would we need help?" I asked in confusion. "Is this a '_just-so-you-know'_ kind of thing?"

"No one will help you," the woman replied, looking as though she were giving me an answer that made complete sense. "No one lives any nearer than town; no one will come any nearer than that. In the night… in the dark… you will be alone."

I stared at Mrs. Dudley with an unsettled expression, but I chose not to reply to her disturbing statements.

Then she slowly stepped forward and looked down at me: when I blinked up at her, however, her stoic expression softened for a moment and she took in my unusual features with an almost grandmotherly gaze. I don't know why she did what she did, but I felt almost as though my heart stopped when she brushed my hair away from my right ear and leaned forward, bringing her lips close to me with an extremely nervous expression: I remained tense and still as she took a breath.

"Don't go anywhere alone and lock each door behind you at night," the woman whispered into my ear. "This house has_ eyes, _my dear... it will know you're here."

Then, after casually brushing my bangs out of my face, Mrs. Dudley left the room with a gaze that nervously flashed around. I waited for the door to creak shut to begin the process of unpacking my bags, albeit I was a little disturbed. Then again, whether or not the woman was batshit crazy wasn't any of my business.

As long as she didn't try to murder me or something, that is.


	3. Chapter 2: Phoebe

**Chapter Two: Phoebe**

The first thing I did after Mrs. Dudley left was pull out my photo albums, which I set on my pillow... then I began hanging my clothes in the huge closet. Once I was finished, I walked over to the window and looked across the grounds. However, when a glint of red caught my attention and I glanced down, I blinked in surprise since an expensive rental car was sitting on the driveway.

_Whoa,_ I silently droned, blinking a few more times. _Whoever rented that must be extremely wealthy or incredibly stupid._

After a moment, I shrugged and decided to go take a look around.

There were still lots of things I wanted to see, so I headed for the stairs I'd come up earlier and goggled at the artistry around me.

Personally, all of the sculptures were creepy, but in a really weird way... they were absolutely enchanting at the same time.

I meandered aimlessly for nearly ten minutes, gawking at how detailed everything was.

"You'll be staying in the north wing," Mrs. Dudley suddenly droned, speaking from somewhere nearby. "The Blue Room."

I glanced down from the oddest-looking carving in the world when I heard a set of heels clacking on the stairs, but I stopped dead in my tracks and gawked when I realized that the most _beautiful_ woman I had ever seen was clicking her way towards me: she had dark hair that stretched down to the middle of her back, exotic brown eyes, and light caramel skin with a model's complexion. On top of that, she was carrying six enormous trunks all by herself.

It was kind of impressive.

"Hi there!" the beautiful arrival called, clacking her way towards where I was standing and smiling as though we'd been friends for a long time. "Don't worry, I'm not an obsessive packer! I just figured asking people to help me carry some of this crap would be a cheap and inexpensive way of making new friends! Anyway, would you mind helping me out, sweetie?"

"Um, o-okay," I stammered, instantly attempting to shoulder two of her huge bags; I let out a squeak when my legs nearly buckled, because it was only _then_ that I realized how heavy they actually were. "Holy crap! What the heck do you have packed in these things?! Boulders?!"

"No! They're _books!"_ the exotic woman laughed, holding out a hand with a cheerful smile. "My name's Phoebe Halliwell!"

"Um, I'm Lillian Malory," I replied, politely shaking her hand despite the bags weighing me down, "but everyone calls me Rose."

"Well, '_everyone calls me Rose,_'" the beautiful woman laughed, tossing her hair out of her eyes before she looked at me. "Isn't this place _crazy_?! I swear, I can't believe I'm getting paid to live here! It has a classy and somewhat creepy feeling to it! Kind of like witnessing a piece of Shakespeare's brain in action!"

"Maybe," I murmured, looking down at the ground. "It reminded me more of Edgar Allen Poe."

"Ooh, that's an even better comparison!" the woman gasped, eyes shining in delight. "Good one, kiddo!"

For some reason or another, I immediately took a liking to Phoebe. There was just something about her that brightened the place up, and it didn't have anything to do with her beauty. She simply felt like a genuinely cheerful woman... and if I'm going to be honest, it was kind of refreshing to be smiled at: most people are as reserved around me as I am around them, so I don't get smiled at very often.

On the other hand... most of the people who'd ignored me were teenagers.

Phoebe was a grown woman.

Around that moment, I happened to glance down and blinked in surprise after I saw the boots she was wearing. For a moment, I actually felt a little envious since she probably had the longest legs in the entire world. If I'd had to guess, Phoebe was most likely in her mid to late twenties... but then again, even though she seemed sophisticated, mature, and intelligent, age didn't really make a difference with attractiveness like _hers_: she could have passed off as being younger than she was.

"Wow," Phoebe murmured quietly, looking around with awed brown eyes. "This place makes me feel like I'm looking at the _essence_ of art. Prue would have loved this place!"

"Speaking of art, I like your boots," I murmured shyly, keeping my eyes trained on the ground. "They look good on you."

"They do?" the woman asked, pausing and turning her leg to glance down at her calf-length black heels. "Well, they're Prada—Milan, not New York… but they're seriously killing me. Still, it's a _very_ small price to pay for such _savage_ kicks, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah, but those things would come up to my thighs," I murmured, grinning a bit at _that_ mental image. "I'm too small to wear stuff like that."

"True, but hey, you have good taste when it comes to the physical stuff," Phoebe pointed out, staring at my hair with amazed fingers; after a moment, she reached out and touched my hair before flinching and halting mid-step with a gasp. I blinked and stared at her when she stood there with her eyes closed, but before I could so much as ask if she was all right, she opened her eyes and looked at me with a softer expression. "Wow... you're a very pretty girl."

"Um, thank you?" I asked, feeling a little put off by the random turn the conversation had taken. "Sorry, but... are you okay?"

"Yeah, I am," Phoebe sighed, shrugging before she continued walking down the hall. "It just hit me that your hair was white, that's all... where did you get it dyed, kiddo? I should seriously check the place out sometime since you probably had the most amazing stylist in the world. It's not every day you see someone with totally white hair."

"U-um…" I stammered, uneasily glancing at the floor. "Well, actually... I didn't get it dyed. This is my natural hair color."

"Whoa! Really?" the woman gasped, looking down at my face in surprise; she instantly leaned down closer and stared at me in blatant fascination, gawking at my violet eyes and pale skin until I finally glanced away with a flush. "Yup... even your eyelashes and eyebrows are white! I guess that means you're an albino, huh? Still, your eyes are really pretty… I like 'em! They remind me of that purple gem my sister back home has a fascination with!"

"Wait, it doesn't bother you?" I asked, furrowing my brows in disbelief. "Me being an albino, I mean."

"Why should it, honey? You're unique _and_ hot!" Phoebe inquired, giving me a wink. "It's not every day you see a _cute _albino!"

_Okay, whoa,_ I instantly thought to myself, feeling shocked to the core. _A woman who looks like a supermodel just told me that my freakish appearance makes me look hot and that I'm a cute albino. Did I just walk into an alternate reality or something?  
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When Mrs. Dudley opened up the door to her room, I was surprised to see it was the one resting right next to mine. Phoebe's eyes widened when she saw how beautifully the room had been decorated, and she instantly made her way in. I watched as she looked at the furniture with an awed expression.

"Oh, God!" she laughed, spinning around with her luggage. "I get paid six hundred dollars a week to live here?! This is insane! I love it!"

"If you think this is cool, you should see _my_ room," I stated quietly, watching as Phoebe took a running start and flipped onto her bed with a giggle: she instantly sank into her fur coat and grinned up at the ceiling in delight. "It's amazing... and the furniture is to die for."

"I set dinner on the dining room sideboard at six," Mrs. Dudley sighed, catching my attention. "You can serve yourselves. Breakfast is ready at nine: I don't wait on people. I don't stay after dinner, not after it begins to get dark… I leave before dark comes. I live in town, thirteen miles, so there won't be anyone around to come here if you need help of any sort…"

Dear Lord... the poor woman must have memorized the speech.

"We couldn't hear you," I calmly interrupted, fighting back a reluctant grin, "even if you tried screaming out into the night."

"No one could," Mrs. Dudley continued, giving me the stink-eye when I turned my nose up and tried to act like an old lady; Phoebe glanced at me with a quirked eyebrow as I stood there with my hands folded in a manner similar to the caretaker's wife. I even went as far as trying to mimic her stingy expression for a little while, but my amused smirk soon broke through. "No one lives any nearer than town..."

"And no one will come," I continued, pointedly tossing my hair, "any nearer than that."

"In the night…" Mrs. Dudley stated tightly, pursing her lips at me.

"In the dark…" I finished, fighting back a hysterical laugh when her eyebrows began twitching.

"In the dark," Mrs. Dudley muttered.

When she continued to glare for more than a minute, I waved at her and she narrowed her eyes before leaving the room with a dignified snort. She closed the huge double doors behind her and left me and Phoebe alone without ceremony. The black-haired woman was smiling happily and looking around from where she lay fluffed out on her new bed. I timidly walked a little closer and clasped my hands together to keep from fidgeting.

"Well," I murmured, awkwardly shuffling my shoes, "I hope we get along from here on out, okay?"

"Ditto!" Phoebe exclaimed, looking at me with an expression of curiosity from her spot on the bed. "Anyway, what do you do, Rosie? Job-wise, I mean... you're probably a model, right? You have the right kind of looks to be one, that much is obvious. You remind me of that albino girl in Vogue Magazine..."

"Um, no, I'm definitely not a model... but I _was_ working several part time jobs up until now," I quietly explained, giving a little shrug. "However, between doing that and juggling my school life, I didn't really have much free time. That kind of included the time to focus on getting a good night's sleep."

"Your school life?" Phoebe asked with a blink. "Do you mean college?"

"Not exactly," I murmured, awkwardly shuffling my feet. "I haven't..."

"How old are you, exactly?" she asked, smirking at me. "Now that I think about, even for an albino, you look kind of… _young. _Especially for something like insomnia."

"I'm fifteen, but I've apparently got it really bad," I carefully explained, looking up at her with an expressionless demeanor; then I flawlessly changed the subject, praying the quirk of her eyebrow was the only question she would ask. "You know what's awesome? My room is right next to yours, and I think we even share the same bathroom. Isn't that cool?"

"Oh, don't worry... I probably won't be in here very much," Phoebe pointedly sighed, sitting up from the bed and looking at me with a very tired expression on her face. "I'm an extremely light sleeper, and I have tons of trouble getting to bed since... well, I have my reasons. Still, I'd have figured everyone here would be around my age… I mean, I'm almost forty-three and I live in San Francisco, so there's a lot of hustle in my life."

"Wait, you're from California?" I asked, feeling kind of amazed by the statement. "That's so cool!"

"Yeah, but the noise really puts a damper on getting a decent amount of sleep," Phoebe drawled, standing up with a knowing smile and fluffing her glossy hair out with a sigh. "I've never been able to get a good wink of rest because of how... well, _rushed_ my life is back home."

"Well, that's why we're all here," I murmured a little more solemnly, clasping my hands together behind my back and staring at the floor when Phoebe took off her jacket. "Anyway... if you don't mind me asking, what exactly do you do for a living, Phoebe?"

"Well, that depends," the woman sighed, lifting her hands in order to start unbuttoning her shirt; I instantly turned around to give her some privacy while she changed her clothes. "I'm kind of between jobs at the moment, and I've also been distracted from finding work because things keep getting in the way. Plus, my husband, Coop... well, he's a hard worker, but it's kind of... I don't know... it's irritating since I feel like I'm never doing anything. Love is very complex, if you know what I mean."

"Not really," I bluntly replied, looking at the chandelier above her writing table with forced fascination. "I'm not familiar with things like that."

"Wait, what? Don't tell me Chicago is different from California," the woman chuckled, looking at me in surprise. "Even little thirteen-year-old kids are falling in love up in San Francisco these days, aren't they? Agh, well, at any rate, this little vacation might kill two birds with one stone: I'm getting paid to try and sleep right."

For a moment, I merely stared at her with my mouth hanging open: this woman was obviously a lot older than I was, both in body _and_ experience.

"I'm kind of surprised by the fact that you're talking to me," I mumbled, feeling more than a little awkward. "Most of the time, I'm an extremely apathetic person, which is pretty much an attraction-killer since the combination of my looks and my attitude don't go well together. Honestly… I haven't even had my… first… k-kiss..."

I felt my ears burning, so I stopped talking and shuffled my shoes again with an embarrassed expression.

"Your innocence is adorable," Phoebe sighed, grinning when my face burned red. "You've really never had a crush on anyone?"

"Not really... I've never bothered to look at people like that," I quietly explained, clasping my hands behind my back and looking up at the ceiling as I thought about it. "When I was little, everyone used to stay away from me: they avoided me like the plague because of my looks, but now it's like they expect me to be all buddy-buddy just because I finally grew some boobs. Unfortunately for them, I'm a bitter girl."

"You know, that's how it happened for me, too!" Phoebe gushed, laughing a little as she finished changing her clothes behind me. "There wasn't a single guy who looked my way until I turned sixteen, but after that there were heads turning every time I walked past! I even got a nickname after I kissed my first boyfriend, haha! Everyone called me Freebie! Honestly, though, I find it kind of hard to believe that a pretty girl like you doesn't even have a secret crush. It's kind of unusual... you know?"

"I've never needed a crush," I stated softly, looking up at her when she tapped my shoulder; she was wearing a black mini-dress that made her look amazing. "All I've ever needed was a place to call my own. My mother has a beautiful house with an amazing garden that the two of us planted. There are a bunch of wildflowers all around, but at the end of the path there's this grove of albino plum trees that my mother planted on the same day she adopted me. Whenever you stand beneath those trees... you can see Lake Michigan if someone you love is holding your hand."

By the time I'd finished speaking, I had a rare smile on my face... then again, I always smiled when I talked about my mom.

"That actually sounds really nice, Rosie," Phoebe murmured gently, buttoning up a leather jacket over her dress. "You're a lucky girl if you have such a wonderful mother… but I'm sure you know that, right? You're very lucky: my mom passed away before I could really get to know her."

I nodded, smiling happily even though I suddenly wanted to cry; I didn't even realized that she'd turned to stare at me with a puzzled frown.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I murmured, looking at her with a forced grin. "Honestly, I couldn't imagine... my... my mother is the one I hold closest to my heart."

"I'll bet," the woman sighed, setting a gentle hand on my shoulder; then she looked at me and clapped her hands against her shapely thighs with an excited expression, calm demeanor going right out the window. "So, wanna show me the bathroom?!"

"Oh, sure! It's really beautiful," I quietly exclaimed, turning around and eagerly heading towards the doors; Phoebe watched with eager doe brown eyes as I pushed the bathroom's doors open wide and waved her over. "This is our bathroom!"

"Ohhh, God…" Phoebe groaned appreciatively, walking inside and looking around with an overwhelmed expression; she instantly let out a throaty laugh, shaking her head in awe when I danced over to the tub and gestured at the inlaid gold. "I'm gonna have to remind myself to get Paige something to say thanks!"

"Oh, and look at this over here!" I added in a soft voice, running over to the sinks and pointing at the sculpted children and flowers. "Can you believe how amazing everything in this house is? With all of these statues, carvings, and the artistic decorations, I could lie down in my bedroom and stare at everything for hours and _still_ notice new things all over the place! It's amazing, isn't it?"

"So far!" Phoebe exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "What's _your_ room like? Can I see it?"

"Sure, it's right over here!" I murmured with a nod, leading her through the doors to my bedroom and showing her around with a slightly excited expression on my face. I was normally a very distant person around people I didn't know, but for once I let the slip in my behavior slide: the experience was so incredible that I figured it was something worth sharing. "Isn't it beautiful? I seriously love all of the decorations."

The woman didn't answer me; she was looking towards the open bathroom doors with a slight frown.

"Did you hear that?" Phoebe hesitantly asked, looking at me with puzzled eyes. "I swear I just heard a little kid laughing."

"Really?" I asked, eyebrows lifting in surprise before I frowned. "Egh, I don't think it's anything we should worry about: it's probably just the building making weird noises, and God only knows how many strange sounds a mansion this old can make."

"Well, that's true, and I've definitely heard stranger things back in San Francisco," Phoebe chuckled, cocking her head a bit as she looked at the carvings above my bedroom fireplace. Her eyes instantly showed a bit of hesitation and her excitement balked. "I don't know about those carvings, though... they're, like… _creepy,_ and not in a good way. I saw other carvings like them on the way up, but these are different. They feel more sinister than the rest."

"Personally, I think they're beautiful," I murmured, slowly walking up and touching one of the heads. "I've always loved little kids because I used to have a baby sister named Anna. She was a really pretty girl with curly blonde hair and big blue eyes... we were close, so I miss her a lot."

"What happened to her?" Phoebe asked, blinking at me in curious surprise. "Divorcee separation?"

"No, nothing like that..." I sighed, shrugging a little without looking up. "Anna got sick when I was seven and passed away. It was a long time ago, and it doesn't hurt as badly as it used to, but I still remember everything about her. For some reason, these carvings reminded me of her."

"Well, now that I've heard such a touching story, they _do_ seem a bit less creepy," Phoebe sighed, shaking her head before she planted a long-fingered hand on her hip. "Anyway, forgive me for being a fashion critique, but what are you _wearing?_ Is it a school girl costume?"

"Good guess... you were definitely on the right track. This is actually a standard Private Academy high school uniform," I curtly replied, doing a little twirl and daintily clasping my hands with a smug expression. "It's one of the few outfits that I actually own. Plus, I look extremely cute in it compared to jeans and a t-shirt."

"Can't deny that," Phoebe murmured, eyeing my slender figure with a calculating gaze. "I'd kill to have such a petite figure."

"Eh?! No way! You're so pretty, though!" I squawked without thinking; when she grinned at me, I clamped my hands over my mouth in shock. "Um..."

"Thanks, hon!" the woman sighed, flapping a dismissive hand. "Anyway... why don't we go look around a bit and see the sights?"

"Sounds good... I was actually planning to do that before you got here," I sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and heading for the doors; when we made our way back out into the hall, I looked around and realized I would never get used to the majesty of the building. "There are so many carvings all over the place that I can't stop looking around anymore... and that's not exactly a common thing for me."

"Are there any interesting ones?" Phoebe asked, leaning over my shoulder and grinning at me. "Show me!"

"Well, there _is_ one that I saw earlier," I admitted, bouncing around a nearby corner and eagerly pointing at a depiction of an angel and a demon embracing each other with expressions of love carved into their eyes. "It caught my attention on the way up… isn't it beautiful?"

"No, it's _creepy,"_ Phoebe muttered, blinking at the carving with an odd expression. "I don't like it."

"It's a depiction of forbidden love, though," I explained, cocking my head in dismay. "I think love should have no boundaries since sometimes it can change even the _bad_ people in a positive way. I mean, if a demon fell in love with an angel, shouldn't he be welcomed instead of punished? People always say that demons are evil, but what if an evil demon actually fell in love and became good because of it? I think he should be welcomed, not spurned: in the end, it's not his fault that he was born as something evil, which makes it unfair that he can't love the angel. That's what I personally believe._"_

"Well... honestly, I can actually see where you're coming from," Phoebe murmured, spooked expression changing into a much more thoughtful one. "You know, you're really intelligent for someone your age... you've put a lot of thought into this, haven't you? Sadly enough, I actually _agree_ with your explanation."

"Why is it sad that you agree?" I asked, glancing up at her in confusion. "Love is love, no matter who its felt for, right? So why is it sad?"

"Personal experience, that's why," the woman cryptically sighed, running a hand through her hair before she returned my stare. "Still, you're looking at this from the creatures in the carving and not just observing the surface image. Most people would glance at this sculpture and see only the taboo nature of the situation; they wouldn't think about the feelings of the beings within it."

"That much is true," I sheepishly admitted, rubbing my arm with a sigh, "but I've always been a little weird."

"Sheesh, you're interesting _and_ adorable," Phoebe muttered in mock dismay as the two of us continued walking down the hall. "You know, I'm liking you more and more, Rosie! Let's go find something fun to do and get into some girl trouble!"

"If you say so," I murmured, smiling a little despite myself; however, when the two of us turned around a corner and walked past some enormous carvings depicting lions and beautiful angels with nothing but bones for wings, I halted since an enormous set of double doors met my gaze: they were absolutely enormous, but had the most disturbing things I'd ever seen carved into them. I felt a strange prickling sensation emanating from the doors... and I didn't like it.

"Wow! You definitely won't get _this_ from a Martha Stewart catalog," Phoebe murmured in admiration, folding her arms and looking up at the enormous stone doors with a fascinated expression. "There's nothing that can compare with the majesty of this place, even if it _is_ kind of creepy..."

"I don't like this one," I muttered, eying the demonic carvings with a wary expression before stepping back and clutching my skirt. "This is_ my_ definition of creepy."

"Isn't the image based on the gates of hell?" Phoebe asked, pensively cocking her head to the side. "You know… the artistic piece by Roe Dan?"

"Eh? No, I don't think so," I hesitantly replied, walking forward and examining the carvings that had been chiseled into the doors. "I... don't think this was based on hell."

"If not _that,_ then _what?"_ Phoebe inquired, watching me as I gazed at the winged demons and dismembered skeletons; I felt slightly unnerved to see that they were all pinning small children down on the ground. Each child was holding out a hand to the top of the door, where carved angels were reaching down for them with tormented expressions etched into their stony faces. "Normally, I wouldn't know about things like this, but... my older sister was an appraiser for auction houses. She knew almost everything imaginable when it came to old, artsy stuff."

"I think it's a depiction of _purgatory..._ not _hell,"_ I finally whispered, swallowing hard before I pointed at the sculpted children with a trembling finger. "See? All of the kids are reaching for heaven, but their souls are being held back by the demons. According to a book I read a really long time ago, purgatory is a place that was supposedly _created_ by demons for torturing souls that haven't crossed over yet. That's how ghosts become trapped in haunted houses."

"Really?" Phoebe quietly asked, furrowing her brows when I touched a child's stony hand. "Is that true?"

"Um, I don't think _anyone_ knows the answer to _that_ question, Phoebe," I murmured, running my fingers across a few of the wicked faces. "Okay, let's just say that I really don't like the vibe these doors are giving off. My mother once told me something scary about art... it had something to do with masterpieces somehow turning against the people who admire them. If everything I read in the book about ghosts, spirits, and evil entities was true, demons can hold onto a soul for as long as they want to... which also means that art and religion wouldn't be a very good mix if masterpieces can really start haunting people, you know?"

"Lillian, did you study art?" Phoebe asked, looking at me with amazed eyes. "You know quite a lot about it."

"No, but I _did_ study things like purgatory," I cheekily remarked, staring at her with a slightly dazed expression. "It's when your soul is caught between the living and the dead. There's no escape until someone saves you."

"Oh, yeah, I've been there before," the woman sighed, flapping a dismissive hand before she rolled her eyes. "It's being stuck in coach on an eighteen hour flight from San Francisco to Paris while a baby _and_ his father drools on you. It really isn't a pleasant place to be, trust me."

Before I even realized what was happening, I burst into a hysterical fit of laughter.

"G-good one," I giggled, hiccuping a little bit before I managed to calm myself down. "Still, there are lots of reasons why I think the doors are creepy. For one thing, the words '_all ye who stand before these doors shall be judged'_ are carved right on the front of them."

"Well, let's not stand here, then," Phoebe snorted, smirking at me before she took my hand. "Come on, Rosie! Let's go explore some more!"

I shrugged and silently fell into step beside her: the two of us walked side by side down another set of corridors with several mirrors resting on each side, but I felt kind of flabbergasted when I saw hundreds of corridors being reflected in the glass. Phoebe looked a little dizzy, too, but she had a grin on her face so she was probably the kind of woman who enjoyed adventures. When the two of us came to another bend in the hallway, we were kind of stumped.

We couldn't even tell if the corridor was real or not.

I hesitantly put a hand out and looked at my acquaintance in confusion; she did the same and timidly moved forward with her arms out.

"Is it real?" she whispered, hesitantly stepping through the area. "Wow, it is! For a second I thought it was another mirror! This place is awesome!"

"This part of the mansion is dizzying!" I complained, following her down the corridor. "It's like an optical illusion that somehow came to life."

The two of us made our way down to the end of the hall and forced open a set of doors, but both of us jumped when a set of gears began churning directly behind us. I shared a look with my dark-haired companion and shrugged before peering into the room.

"What's that?" Phoebe asked, glancing around with a startled expression. "Did we trigger some kind of trap?"

Not even a second later, I heard extremely old-fashioned carnival music.

"Wow!" I whispered, eyes widening when I saw a spinning room full of enormous mirrors in front of me. "No way! Is... is this is an old fashioned Hall of Mirrors?!"

"Oh, my freaking God!" Phoebe laughed, eyes widening as we both stepped on the moving floor; the two of us held onto each other for support and laughed as the mirrors reflected our giddy grins in every direction. "It's like we're at a carnival!"

"This is unreal!" I squeaked, looking around with large eyes. "Who the hell would put a house of mirrors inside an actual house?!

"I don't know, but it's sooo beautiful that I don't even care!" Phoebe gasped, spinning around the revolving room-of-mirrors and dancing to the music with a giddy smile on her face. "I swear to God, I absolutely love this house! Thank you Paige and Piper! La-la-laaaa! La-la-la-la-laaaa!"

I couldn't stop myself from laughing when she spun over to me, mostly because we twirled around like a pair of little girls, laughing and giggling in excitement. The fact that such an ancient mansion actually had a room like this was utterly incredible: I couldn't even believe that I was going to be living here for the next six months. It was enchanting: there was no other way to describe it.

"I'm starting to wish I could stay here forever," I murmured dreamily, watching with sparkling violet eyes as Phoebe laughed and nodded in agreement to my statement. "This house is amazing… I feel like the luckiest girl in the world right now!"

"Yup! I agree! Let's get out of here, though... I'm getting kinda dizzy," Phoebe giggled, and the two of us made our way over to the doors with different levels of delight resting on our faces. When we returned to the hall we'd originally been heading down, Phoebe was still laughing like crazy. However, when we opened the door to continue on our way, the two of us were met with the sight of extremely deep water and stepping stones carved in the shapes of books.

"Whoa," I muttered, brows coming together as I slowly bent down and peered into the water. "It's deep."

"How deep?" Phoebe asked, peering down as well before her eyes widened in surprise. "Ugh, I can't even see the bottom!""

"Well, the water is dark," I explained, glancing at her with a shrug. "It probably means that the bottom is more than twelve feet below us."

"Who the hell would put something so odd inside of a building?" Phoebe wondered, furrowing her brows. "It's not exactly normal, is it?"

"No, and it's kind of unsettling," I admitted, hesitantly stepping on a book and making my way across the water-filled hall with my arms out. "Eeek! I really hope I don't fall in! Mrs. Dudley probably never changes this water because of how deep it is! That would mean its been lying here for years!"

"Gross!" Phoebe instantly groaned, wrinkling her nose as she hesitantly followed me; the woman waved her arms as she almost lost her balance, but she managed to catch herself and hastily continued on after me. "Oh, God, if I ruin these boots, I'm gonna be _so_ pissed!"

"Let's just go back to the main hall," I called, stepping onto the platform and heading over to the nearest door with a sigh. "This might be an exit."

However, when Phoebe and I opened the doors, we discovered that we were no longer alone.

And it was in a very excruciating manner.


	4. Chapter 3: The Gang's All Here

**Chapter Three: Tbe Gang's All Here**

If I had been expecting anything when I opened the doors and ran through them with Phoebe, it didn't include smacking my face on a stomach that was somehow harder than a rock; I let out a squeak of pain only a split second before the collision knocked me on my butt. After getting my bearings and rubbing my nose with a shaking hand, I parted my long white hair like a curtain and glanced up at the person I'd bumped into.

However, I instantly froze... because when my eyes slowly traveled up from his waist to his face, I found myself staring into the eyes of an exceedingly lion-like man. The first thing I noticed about him was his incredible size... because he was, in fact, nearly seven feet tall: my head only came up to the beginning of his belly, and his hands were so big that he could have wrapped both of them around my entire _waist_.

With plenty of finger room left over.

The next thing I saw were his eyes… they were a very startling shade of _green, _but incredibly unique and unlike anything I'd ever seen. Staring into those emerald pools left me feeling dazed. His face was rugged, his eyes were slanted in an upturned manner, he was sporting a red beard, and his shoulder-length auburn hair was more of a wild mane than anything else I could think of.

He would have made Mufasa from the Lion King feel jealous.

"Oh, Jesus!" Phoebe gasped, instantly bending over with large eyes; she instantly began digging in her pocket, but then she pulled out a handkerchief and held it against my nose. "Are you okay?!"

"What do you mean?" I asked, flailing my arms in alarm when she tilted my head back a bit. "W-what are you doing?!"

"Your nose is bleeding," the woman explained, making me blink in surprise. "Figure it out."

"I-I'm so sorry!" the burly redhead boomed in a distinctly Scottish accent. "I didn't see the lass, I swear!"

"No worries: it's _my_ fault for not _looking_ before I _leapt,"_ I stated in a muffled tone, shrugging a bit before Phoebe helped me up and continued to press the kerchief against my nose. "_I_should be the one apologizing, since I pretty much just smacked my face against your belly."

"Regardless of whose fault it was," Phoebe sighed, looking up at the big man, _"_you scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry," the man repeated, sticking his large hands in his pockets with an awkward grin. "I didn't mean to scare either of you pretty lasses. I'm just another bad sleeper among millions of insomniacs… a basic tosser-tuner. My name is Lyle O'Conner. Might I ask the names of the beautiful butterflies who've fluttered into the ballroom?"

"I'm Lillian Malory," I hesitantly greeted, swallowing when he shook my hand using only two fingers and his thumb: he was a _seriously_ large man, and his size kind of made me nervous. "You can call me Rose, though... after all, I prefer to go by that rather than Lily."

"What kind of sleeper are you, kid?" Lyle asked, speaking in a curious tone. "Nightmares?"

"Nope," I replied, pointedly shaking my head. "Good guess, though."

"Anxiety attacks?" he inquired, quirking a bushy eyebrow.

"Wrong," I sighed, averting my eyes and staring at the floor. "No anxiety attacks."

"Then let's go with obsessive indecision," the man chortled, green eyes sparkling as he looked at me; for some reason or another, he suddenly reminded me of the Bear King in the Disney movie _Brave_: Lyle had a very strong Scottish accent, fiery red hair, a beard that was wild, and he was absolutely _enormous_ in size. On top of that, he was a fairly mischievous man if the gleam in his eyes was any clue.

"Did you just say _obsessive indecision?_" Phoebe scoffed, lifting an eyebrow. "Really?"

"You bet your arse I did, lassie!" the man cheerfully bellowed. "Now, you? Let me guess… you're a hot, lesbi—"

"Don't even start," Phoebe interrupted, looking at him with a fierce expression. "I'm married to a man, and I don't give a damn who knows it. Cork it."

"Wow," Lyle rumbled, looking at her with a playful grin. "You're so _dominant."_

"Thanks!" the woman exclaimed, giving him a sly smile as she shook his hand. "Phoebe Halliwell."

"Hullo, Phoebe," the redhead chuckled, grinning at her like a goofy idiot. "I'm Lyle."

"You already pointed that out," Phoebe deadpanned, quirking an eyebrow before she pursed her full lips. "Hmm... my virgin senses are tingling."

I averted my eyes and turned around with an awkward expression since I didn't really know how to handle witnessing such obvious flirtation.

I was all too aware that I was now in the presence of adults rather than teenagers.

Seeing how they socialized with each other was new… and I say 'new' because I don't want to admit that I found it to be horrifyingly embarrassing. Before I could think about how to get rid of the flush on my cheeks, another arrival came charging in through the doors and crashed straight into my stomach. I let out a squeak when I was knocked to the floor a split second later. Somehow, I found myself lying flat on my back with something heavy resting on top of my stomach.

"Ow…" I deadpanned, slowly opening my eyes and blinking a few times. "That hurt. What just hit me?"

"That'd be me," a male voice quietly replied, sounding a bit shaken. "Sorry about that... wasn't looking where I was going."

I froze like a statue when I saw a pair owlish blue eyes staring straight into mine from only an inch away: those eyes had gone wide with an expression of startled surprise. I had a clear view of the color resting in those irises… but honestly, I had _never_ seen such an utterly enchanting shade of blue.

It was almost as though I was staring into the essence of the sky.

"H-hello," I peeped, feeling my ears burning and my cheeks heating up. "Could you get off me now?"

"Oh… uh, I'm sorry," the arrival murmured in a soft voice, face turning red as he slowly removed himself from my chest and sat down on the floor with his hands resting limply. "I… well, uh… it was an accident, and… I didn't mean to, honestly."

"It's okay," I grumpily retorted, sitting up and rubbing the back of my head. "Don't worry about it."

The boy who'd just crashed into me was insanely attractive… but surprisingly enough, he was the first person who looked to be around my own age. He was very slim and maybe a little bit below the average height, but he had curly blonde hair, electric blue eyes, and a very sleepy expression that gave me an impression that he wasn't fazed by much; he was holding two suitcases in his hands.

"You're not hurt, are you?" he asked, slowly getting up and silently holding out a hand; I shook my head and took it, allowing him to help me up before I dusted off my skirt. "I space out a lot, and I kind of have a bad tendency to hurt people by accident since I'm usually not paying attention."

"I'm fine," I sighed, glancing at Phoebe to see her waggling her eyebrows at me. "I'm not hurt."

"What's your name, Lad?" Lyle inquired, glancing at the blonde boy. "You look kind of young."

"My name is Milo Otis Montgomery," the blonde boy droned, regarding the giant with half-lidded blue eyes. "My parents really loved this old-fashioned movie called Milo and Otis, so they named me after it when I was born. That's why my first and middle names don't go together."

"Well, that's interesting," Phoebe snorted, cocking her head with a grin. "How old are you?"

"I'll be sixteen in two weeks," Milo quietly explained, letting out a yawn before he glanced around with glazed eyes. "I'm here because my parents thought I needed a break from my studies. I was spending too much time with my cello... I kind of got obsessed with my music. Anyway, thanks for forgiving me, Miss….?"

"Rose," I explained, giving him a shrug. "My name is Lillian Malory, but I go by Rose."

Milo blinked and stared at my features for several moments with a lazy expression. He honestly didn't really look all that impressed... or even weirded out by my albinism for that matter. He simply looked as though he were too tired to care about anything.

"Your hair looks like starlight," he mumbled quietly, lifting a hand and absently touching my head before blinking in surprise. "and it feels like satin… weightless. It's really pretty, but I've never seen anyone with pink eyes… or, are your eyes purple? Why do they look like that?"

"B-because they shift depending on the light," I practically squealed, swallowing hard as my muscles locked up. "My eyes don't actually _have_ a definitive color to them… the pink and purple hues are only there because light is being reflected off the blood vessels in my eyes. Everything about me is pretty much colorless."

"Pretty," Milo murmured absently. "I've never seen such pretty hair before. Pure white, like snow."

Phoebe's eyes widened and she fought back a loud giggle when my face turned bright red, but Lyle didn't hesitate when it came to letting out a boyish whistle. I didn't really know how to react to Milo's statement… nor did I know what to do when his gentle hand slowly began moving back and forth on my head in a stroking manner. Normally, I would have snapped at someone for even _daring_ to touch my hair, but this situation was different somehow: the blonde boy seemed to be genuinely fascinated by my appearance, but it wasn't in a flirty kind of way at all.

In all actuality, he was acting as though he'd forgotten my hair was attached to my head.

My lack of action probably had something to do with his sleepy-eyed expression.

"Uhhh... thanks?" I mumbled, hesitantly sliding away from his hand. "I appreciate the compliment."

"Is that so?" he yawned, looking around the room with tired blue eyes. "Man, this place is _big._"

"Oh, it's mammoth," Lyle boomed, green eyes lighting up. "There are over eight thousand different rooms!"

"E-eight thousand?!" I squeaked, jaw dropping open in surprise. "Holy crap! Really?!"

"Yes," the Scottish man barked, grinning widely. "'Tis a beautiful piece of land"

"Jesus," a new voice suddenly grunted from across the room; all four of us turned to see a middle-aged man with dark hair peering around the front doors, but then he glanced over his shoulder and laughed. "Well, here we are! Get ready to find Mrs. Dudley."

"Hey!" Lyle called, hefting his backpack and lumbering towards the man. "Dr. Maero! You made it!"

"Well, hello!" the elderly man exclaimed, glancing up at Lyle with raised brows. "You must be Lylander… I never would have guessed you were really seven feet tall."

"Seven feet and three inches, chap," the Scottish man stiffly explained, shaking the good doctor's hand, "and I go by Lyle since I'm not a wussy."

I watched everyone else when they headed over to the front doors and followed them at a safe distance.

The doctor shook everyone's hand and addressed them all by their names, but when he looked around for me, I shrank back a bit and shivered.

"Well, I'll be," Dr. Maero murmured, stepping forward in amazement. "You really _are_ an albino."

"Eh? Is that so? I thought I was just having some lingering affects from visiting the frosting factory," I muttered, swallowing uneasily when he laughed and slapped his knee. "Um... it's a terrible joke... I know."

"It's a pleasure to meet you properly, Lillian," the man chuckled, shaking my hand. "I'm sure that we'll have lots of things to learn from each other."

"I hope so," I honestly admitted, letting out a sigh of relief. "I really just want to sleep again."

"That's why we're here," the good doctor stated, gesturing to a tall man with dark hair and a petite redheaded girl with stunning silver irises. She was rather pretty and had average features aside from her eyes: they seemed to reflect all forms of light like mirrors. "This young man's name is Todd Vanderhill, and this lovely young woman goes by Molly Hayes. Even though she's blind, she has an extremely rare extrasensory gift that allows her to see without using her sight."

"Whoa," Phoebe murmured, eyebrows shooting up in shock. "So, you're saying she's a blind psychic? Neato!"

The redhead instantly snapped in her direction and she seemed to focus on Phoebe with an alarmingly intense expression.

It didn't go unnoticed by the Halliwell sister... but then, that intensity flicked in my direction and I jumped since she started walking towards me.

I blinked when she halted directly in front of me and leaned forward.

"Lillian," the redhead stated, looking straight through me with raised eyebrows. "Are you... a psychic?"

For a moment, all I could do was stare stupidly since the question was so abrupt; Phoebe blinked a few times before she narrowed her eyes, but the rest simply looked confused about it. Dr. Maero, however, looked extremely interested in the redhead's question.

"N-not that _I'm_ aware of," I stammered, not knowing what to do when she touched my shoulders with a small frown. "Why do you ask?"

Right around that moment, I felt a chill sweep through my body from where she was touching me and shivered violently.

Gooseflesh rose up on my arms after that: I don't know what it was, but I had a feeling that something weird was passing through me.

The redhead instantly looked behind me and her eyes softened, gleaming like liquid metal.

"Never mind," Molly murmured inaudibly, expression turning sad. "I wasn't aware, so forget I asked. I see now…"

"Why would you ask something so unusual, Molly?" Dr. Maero inquired, looking thoroughly puzzled by her inquiry. "That sort of question is unlike you."

"It was nothing... I was simply mistaken," the girl called loudly, looking away from me and stepping back. "I apologize."

"Well, now that we've settled that affair," Dr. Maero sighed, smiling broadly at everyone. "Welcome to Chastity Gardens."

I watched everyone follow him out of the entrance hall, choosing to stay back for a bit and catch my breath since I wasn't exactly a social butterfly. However, I didn't notice that Molly had stayed behind because of a strange prickling sensation that traveled up from my tailbone and moved straight into my scalp. I looked up at the ceiling and shivered when the temperature dropped; an eerie creaking noise seemed to come down from the rafters, but I jumped with a start when someone put a hand on my shoulder.

I nearly melted into a puddle of relief when I saw that it was only Molly.

"You scared me," I shakily whispered. "I thought you'd gone off with them."

"You can feel it, too… can't you?" the redhead asked, looking at me with a serious expression; her eyes were blank and unseeing, but I had a feeling that she could see me clearer than anyone else. "There's something odd about this place… something that isn't right. You can feel it, can't you…? I know you can: you're just like me."

"What do you mean" I asked, feeling a bit disturbed by her words; she didn't respond, instead choosing to look up at the ceiling with a confused expression. However, when her eyes slowly widened and began to travel around the room in a slow, frightened manner, I felt a prickly sensation and whirled around to face where she was looking. I didn't actually see anything there... but I did_I did_ hear a strange scratching noise. "What's that sound?"

"Let's go," Molly whispered, swallowing a bit. "Dr. Maero might get worried if we dawdle."

"What was that all about?" I asked in a small voice, sticking close to her. "Were you _looking_ at something?"

For a moment, Molly's steps faltered, but then she continued on and her expression became firm.

"No," the redhead mumbled, shaking her head. "It was probably just psychokinetic interference."

"Psychoki-wha...?" I asked, blinking rapidly in confusion.

"Psychokinesis: it's the ability to cause distortions in reality with nothing but a force of will," the redhead quietly explained, heading through a set of seemingly random doors and walking up the grand staircase from before; she paused for a moment mid-step and glanced at the creepy fireplace with furrowed brows, but then she shrugged and slowly continued walking up the stairs. "Sometimes, people who are going through phases of severe emotional stress can tap into that ability without realizing what they're doing. Milo is most likely the culprit behind what I saw: he's experiencing some extreme anxiety issues since he's unable to compose his music."

"Oh," I murmured, raising my eyebrows in amazement. "You know, that's the coolest thing I've ever heard."

"Actually, I _do_ know," Molly laughed, smiling as she led me to my room; when she opened the door, I wasn't exactly expecting the redhead to shove me through it. I stumbled a bit before whirling around: she was grinning happily as she opened the bag at her side, but when she pulled out a black silk dress and some pretty dress slippers, I did a double take. "I know things long before they happen, so don't bother asking how I know about your clothing selection. As of right now, I can't stand the fact that you don't have even one pretty outfit to laze around in, so I took it upon myself to buy you _three _after you sent in the request to join us for the experiment! Oh, and by the way? Happy second Birthday."

"Y-you what?" I asked, staring at the dress with awed eyes. "Hold up! How did you know about my second bi—?!"

"I'm the daughter of a famous psychic," the girl sighed, stepping forward and forcibly stripping my clothes off my body, "but in this case, it was on your file that you and your mother always celebrated the day you were adopted as a second birthday."

I was so stunned by the situation that I couldn't react: my limbs had pretty much locked up, and by the time I got them working again she was already sliding the dress over my head. Once it was on, Molly smoothed it out and pulled my white hair out from underneath the cloth; then she tied the thin waist-strap into a bow from behind. After that part was done, she pulled a black ribbon from somewhere unseen and sat me down on a stool: I stared into the mirror with incredulous violet eyes as she deftly pulled my bangs back in an intricate manner, watching as she tied them into a half-up ponytail that stretched down over the majority of my hair.

Alarmingly enough, I liked it a lot.

When she was done, I was almost unrecognizable: she had given me a total makeover in under five minutes.

"I've got to go get ready for dinner myself, now," Molly sighed, patting my arm; just like that, she was walking out the door... and for several moments, I honestly wondered what the hell had just happened to me. Then I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and decided not to care: whatever the case was, I looked insanely cute. That was good enough for me.


	5. Chapter 4: Dinner Gone Wrong

**Chapter Four: Dinner Gone Wrong**

Thirty minutes later, I found myself sitting in front of a huge dining room table.

Everyone was seated at the end of it since a hundred people could fill the entire area, but they were all talking about their home lives, their hobbies, and their passions. I actually felt a little out of place since my home life sucked, and my hobbies were boring. Todd, Milo, and Molly were sitting directly across from me; Lyle was seated on my left, Dr. Maero was seated on the other side of him, and Phoebe had just gotten up from the seat on my right to go look for some wine in the kitchens. When she came back, she pulled the cork out with a loud pop.

"You know, you lads and lassies may hate your insomnia, but I'm not sure I want a cure for mine," Lyle stated thoughtfully, watching as Phoebe sashayed her way around the table and sat down; she looked gorgeous since she'd pinned her long hair into a bun and had donned a low-cut red dress. "That's when I get all my best ideas, you know… when I'm waiting to fall asleep. When I'm home alone with no distractions or drama going on to bother me, my mind starts racing with a bunch of creative ideas... and come three A.M., I feel like a_genius."_

"Are you kidding me?" Phoebe squawked, nearly dropping the wine before she gave him a gaping stare. "Come three A.M., I feel like I'm losing my mind! Watching infomercials on psychics or listening to music on MTV can only keep a woman completely sane for so long! I mean, have you _seen_ the crap they play on late night television?"

"Oh, yeah," Dr. Maero chuckled, smiling broadly in understanding. "It's terrible stuff."

"Got that right," Lyle laughed lowly, leaning forward with gleaming green eyes. "If you get an extremely heavy dose of that crap, eventually you'll start thinking about moving to Montana and becoming a survivalist. It's why I just lie awake and think."

"That's why God created barbiturates, honey," Phoebe trilled, pouring him some more wine, "but of course, you _knew_ that."

"I think I see a bit of Jackie Suzanne in Phoebe," Lyle sniggered mischievously; the dark-haired woman gave a mocking laugh before she pointedly glared with a flat expression. The Scottish giant instantly shook his head with another boyish whistle, waggling his eyebrows in admiration for her sassy attitude; Phoebe instantly rolled her eyes.

"All right, let's all get down to business and talk about things for a few minutes," Dr. Maero chuckled, folding his hands. "What do we all need in life? What are the basics? There's food, water, shelter—"

"Sex," Phoebe interrupted, taking a seat beside me and poking me in the arm until I reacted with a sigh. "Can't forget that! It's a human necessity!"

"Mee-_yow_," Lyle growled, grinning at her in an extremely masculine way.

"Um, married?" she whispered, lifting a hand and wiggling her ring finger. "Hello?"

I instantly flushed bright red and averted my violet eyes, since I didn't really enjoy thinking about things like that. Milo turned his sleepy blue eyes away from his book and looked at all of us for a moment, then marked his page and set it down. Apparently, he had just noticed that the good doctor was about to lay things out for us, but I honestly wondered why he seemed so out of it.

"Shelter," Dr. Maero continued, glancing at my embarrassed expression and Milo's sleepy eyes before shooting a warning glare at Phoebe, "and most importantly, sleep. As you all know by now, you were chosen from a wide selection of bad sleepers in an attempt to find a psychological cure for insomnia. However, the first six months of your stay here is just a trial run for all of you: as of right now, you are helping me to further a five year study in an effort to see if there's a precise way to cure insomnia."

"You know, I'm all for helping people," Phoebe suddenly stated, taking a sip of her drink before she leaned back with a perplexed expression, "but doesn't _everybody_ have problems sleeping? Not just adults, but teenagers and little kids as well? I mean, life's just too_frantic. _I'm sure everyone here is a bad sleeper because of it."

"What about you, Rose?" Molly asked, looking straight at me. "What are your thoughts on this?"

"Eh? Well, uh..." I hesitantly murmured, feeling uncomfortable. "Um, in all honesty, it seems like you all have trouble sleeping because your lives are either too exciting or too complicated, and as a result you think about it when you're going to sleep. In my case... nothing exciting has ever really happened to me, so I don't actually have a very good reason to be sleeping as badly as I do."

"Wait," Dr. Maero stated, immediately furrowing his brows. "In your letter, you said were having trouble sleeping because of psychological trauma."

"Well, yes, but… I'm not having issues for reasons like _theirs,"_ I hesitantly admitted, shifting a little in my seat before I lowered my eyes with an uneasy expression. "It's because… at night, there was always somebody calling me—always somebody banging because they needed help."

"What does that mean?" Lyle asked, frowning in confusion.

"To put it simply," I finally murmured, closing my eyes, "my mother got sick with an incurable disease a long time ago, and when she was first diagnosed, my older sister refused to take care of her... so, I did everything by myself. It was the worst at night... she had seizures all the time, and her panic attacks were awful. It got to the point where she couldn't even walk anymore without assistance, so I helped her to the bathroom, made all of her meals, and made sure she was taken care of."

"Really?" the doctor inquired, quirking an eyebrow. "Please, continue: I'd like to further understand your situation, since your bio was by far the most obtuse."

"Well, okay," I sighed, giving a shrug without lifting my eyes. "In short, I became more or less a parent to my mom instead of our roles being the other way around. Because of her illness, she would wake up in the middle of the night and start banging on the wall with her cane to get my attention… then she would cry on my lap until she fell asleep. It happened every night until... recently. These days, I wake up in the middle of the night out of a habit I can't break."

Phoebe's brown eyes slowly widened and filled with an expression of shock.

"Did something happen?" she asked, making me wince. "You told me your mother was... the person who's closest to you, right?"

Lyle had suddenly become very interested in his drink, Milo was looking at me with a more solemn expression than usual, and Dr. Maero was frowning with a grim expression. All of them were reacting differently, but I was too busy trying not to cry to care.

"Yes, I did, Phoebe... and you wanna know what the weirdest part is?" I hesitantly asked, laughing a bit before my expression broke and I gave up. "My mother died almost four months ago… but the banging noises haven't stopped. Every night at two thirty-three in the morning, I've woken up hearing her cane on the walls... it happens no matter where I sleep, be it at home or at another person's house. I don't understand it, nor do I know why it happens, and even my sister was freaked out the first time she heard it. These days, I just can't deal with it... I can't let go of my mother because she's still calling me. She still needs me... but, I can't help her anymore... so all I really want is for the banging to stop. That's all."

For several moments, everyone simply stared at me in total silence: I used those minutes to control my heart rate.

"Well, Lillian," Dr. Maero finally murmured, staring at me with firm brown eyes, "that's why we're here: to help you. "

"Yeah," Lyle finally grumbled, lifting his drink with a sly smirk, "what the good doctor is trying to say is that you're a basket case like the rest of us!"

After I rubbed my eyes, I glanced at Phoebe.

Her cheerful demeanor had vanished, and now she was looking at me with somber brown eyes.

Dinner passed by rather quickly, which left me feeling rather surprised.

After it was over, we all went into the lounge and sat down on the couches while Dr. Maero got a fire going in the fireplace. Molly then treated us to a beautiful song on an old-fashioned piano-like instrument that had originated from somewhere in Saudi Arabia. The strings were tuned like a piano and there were playing keys, but they were styled differently and the strings were similar to a guitar's. When Molly finished the song, I clapped and she eagerly stood up to give a little bow.

"Thank you, Molly," Dr. Maero chuckled, turning to all of us and handing out thick folders full of paperwork. "Okay… why are we all here? Let's ask ourselves the basic questions for now. These assignments are self-study tests that were developed by my research team. You'll be getting a number of these throughout the week: you aren't in a competition, though, so don't worry about being ahead of the class. Between these tests, you'll have each other and the house to keep you company."

I accepted my sheet and looked at the front of it, reading the first initial paragraphs with furrowed brows.

"We can't go to town?" Phoebe asked, not looking up from her sheet. "Not even to go shopping for souvenirs?"

"No," Dr. Maero confirmed, clasping his hands together. "As you've been told, there's no telephone service, there's no television, and the caretakers lock the gates when they leave. However, I _do_ have my cell phone just in case of an emergency, so don't worry about not being able to contact an authority figure in case of danger."

"That may be so, but what's the deal with the Adam's Family mansion?" Lyle finally asked, eying his surroundings so thoroughly that Molly actually started giggling a bit. "What made you choose such a creepy place for an experiment to cure insomnia? I gotta be honest, mate... I really don't get a strong sleep vibe from all this."

"I actually agree," Phoebe giggled nervously, lifting her eyebrows before glancing at the ceiling. "This place is pretty, but it makes me not want to close my eyes."

"I didn't want to make it too easy for you to fall asleep," Dr. Maero calmly replied, making everyone blink in surprise. "Isolation is an essential key to the creation of an experimental model. Those are the two reasons why I chose this place for the test."

"This house," I murmured, looking at the architecture with furrowed brows. "Who built it?"

"Well, actually, that makes for a very good bedtime story," the doctor explained, coming over and kneeling down in front of Milo and myself; he nodded twice before he poured himself a drink and sat down on the sofa resting beside the fireplace. "Once upon a time, there was a king who lived in a castle: his name was Kraine, and he was known as 'Master of the Flowers' for reasons that are unknown even to this day. One hundred and eighty years ago, there were villages in this very area that became famous for slaves who built their masters' homes. Kraine was the richest man to have ever lived in the state of Illinois. He could have had anything he wanted, but what he wanted more than anything… was a house filled with the laughter of children."

"That's why there are all the carvings," I whispered, eyes widening as it began to make sense; Molly glanced at me, but a moment later it was wiped clean and she stiffened in surprise. She stared hard at something just behind my head, but even though I didn't notice her gaze… Milo _did_, and he cocked his head in confusion. He glanced at behind me, then at Molly's silver eyes before returning his attention to Dr. Maero.

"Kraine married the most beautiful woman of the times, Renee, and he built this house for her," the man continued, smiling at us from his spot by the fire. "Everything here was built and carved by him alone."

"God," Phoebe murmured, leaning back with a dreamy expression, "it sounds like a fairytale."

"But sadly, that's where the fairytale ends," Dr. Maero sighed, furrowing his brows with a shrug. "Kraine and Renee couldn't have healthy children: they all died at very young ages based on what I was told. Their oldest son made it to seventeen, but he was so sickly that he was bedridden for most of his life. Renee passed away because of the grief and Kraine eventually became a recluse, but he still kept on building… adding room upon room, as if he were building a home for the family that he would never have."

"I'm glad I wasn't there to see it," Milo murmured. "It would have been sad."

"No one saw Kraine for years," Dr. Maero murmured, looking at each of us in turn, "but the townspeople have often said, over a span of many years, that sometimes they can hear sounds coming from Chastity Gardens at night. The sounds of children... _laughing."_

A cold silence seemed to fill the air with that final word, but I wasn't really all that scared.

"That's so sad," I murmured softly, shaking my head with a sigh. "He must have felt so lonely in this place..."

Phoebe, on the other hand, looked around with a highly unamused expression after he was finished: she had her arms wrapped around herself. Lyle looked half drunk, and he hadn't really been paying very much attention to the story; Todd was relaxing with a bored expression; Milo was looking at the carvings all around us with appreciative eyes; and Molly was staring straight at _me_. Her silver eyes were wide and her face had become completely devoid of color.

Just like that, it hit me like a slap in the face.

The air around me was bitterly cold.

"I think there's more to that story," the redhead whispered, slowly standing up and looking around with a tight expression on her face; I watched as she carefully began walking around the room and started looking around with a tense expression on her face. "I... I-I can _feel_ it. There's more to that story... a lot more."

It was around that moment that I heard an odd sound coming from right behind my head.

I stiffened in surprise and shuddered as a prickling sensation touched my shoulders: after a moment, Phoebe's head turned and she stared at me.

"What's wrong?" the woman asked when I looked around with large eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," I whispered, chest tightening up as an inexplicable dread filled my heart. "I... _feel_ something. Something... weird behind me... no, above me?_"_

"What do you mean?" Phoebe asked, looking more than a little concerned when Molly walked over and touched my shoulder. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know," I retorted, shaking my head. "It's not something I can describe. My entire body is prickling with goosebumps, but I can't figure out why."

"That's because there's something here... it's all around us…" Molly nervously explained, walking around and turning her head with glazed eyes. "It's in the ceiling… it's in the walls… it's in the furniture... it's in this the instrument I was playing earlier. Wait... what?"

When she turned towards the musical stand she'd been playing earlier and stared, I frowned: I didn't see anything odd, even when she walked over to it.

However, when Molly gently drew her fingers across the musical strings, one of them snapped like a whip: I flinched backwards in shock and covered my mouth in horror when it sliced her across the face with a twanging sound. The psychic instantly let out a startled screech and covered her eye, rapidly stumbling backwards. When she shakily pulled her hand away, it was covered with blood that she couldn't even see. I watched with stunned violet eyes as she burst into hysterical tears.

"Oh, my god!" Phoebe cried, bolting up from her chair. "HER EYE!"

Dr. Maero and Todd instantly followed her, rushing over to Molly's side... but when the extent of the damage was revealed, my throat locked up and I choked: there was an extremely deep gash stretching down the left side of her face, and it was practically streaming a river of blood. Phoebe came up with a good solution to keep the blood from getting into her eye, and grabbing an alcoholic shot glass, she held it against the girl's face while Dr. Maero escorted her out of the room.

"Get her to a Hospital, Todd!" the man called, beckoning for him to take her out the door. "Go! Go! Hurry!"

As they were leaving, I thought I heard someone breathing behind me and looked over my shoulder, but nothing was there.

Then I glanced down at the musical instrument and I saw the curled up musical string. I instantly frowned in confusion: it shouldn't have moved in such a deadly manner, even if it _had_ snapped: it wasn't flexible enough. Phoebe came back for me and Milo only a few moments later; she escorted the two of us out of the room. Before anything could be said about what had happened to Molly just a few minutes ago, Lyle came running down the hall after us.

When she realized that he had an unnerved expression on his face, Phoebe frowned at him.

"Hey, wait up," the burly man bellowed, slowing down as he fell into step with us. "Okay, look, I just found this out… but it looks like there was a darker chapter to the King Kraine fairytale. Remember how Dr. Maero explained everything about Kraine's wife, Renee? Well, Renee, the town beauty, didn't just die; she killed herself."

"Really?" Milo asked, owlish blue eyes still dilated from the experience of seeing Molly nearly lose her eye. "W-why?"

"Maero just told you that?" Phoebe deadpanned, looking at him with a suspicious expression. "Are you serious?"

I could tell from her tone that she didn't believe him.

"Yes," Lyle grimly retorted, "and you can't say anything because he swore me to secrecy."

"Why did she kill herself?" I asked, glancing up at the Scottish man. "Did he tell you that much?"

"No, he didn't mention that" Lyle muttered, shrugging with one arm. "Maero _did _tell me that he'd adopted hundreds of orphaned children from the mills out in the country. All I can think of is that maybe he was a horrible monster and he drove Renee to it… or maybe something else. All I know is that the history of this place is sinister."

"A monster?" I scoffed, looking around the carved halls with raised eyebrows. "He built this house for the woman he loved! Look around you! This kind of beauty was inspired by love, just like the Taj Mahal was!"

"The Taj Mahal wasn't a palace," Phoebe muttered uneasily, looking around with furrowed brows. "It was a tomb... and it was equally overdone."

"How'd she kill herself…?" Milo asked, looking at the man as he followed us up the stairs.

"He didn't say," Lyle replied, smirking a bit when the blonde boy shivered a little. "Oh, and one more thing?"

"What?" Phoebe asked, turning to look at him even though I stayed put on the steps.

"Sleep tight," the burly man purred, giving her a wink. "Don't let the bed bugs bite."

Phoebe narrowed her eyes before gripping mine and Milo's arms; then, with the demeanor of a mother hen, she swept up the stairs and led us to our rooms. However, just before my door closed behind me, I could have sworn that I heard a giggle in the hall. A few hours after that, everything calmed down and we got word that Molly was going to be in the hospital for a few weeks because she needed surgery to keep from losing her eye. Once everyone had been told that she was going to be all right by Dr. Maero, I felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

After I'd removed the black dress that Molly had given me, I slipped on my nightgown and sat down in front of the bureau mirror.

When I looked at my reflection, however, I was surprised to see emotion in my violet eyes.

I must have been more overjoyed by the news concerning her recovery than I'd thought.

I slowly picked up the brush on the nightstand and began to run it through my thigh-length white hair, humming the lullaby that my mother had taught me as I gazed into the mirror. My tresses would always gleam like spider silk once they were brushed out: it was the main reason why I loved my hair the most. I didn't notice that Phoebe had stepped into my room some time ago in order to watch me from her spot near the bathroom entrance.

"I like the way you smile whenever you hum that song," the woman finally murmured after several minutes, making me twitch in surprise; I hesitantly twisted around and looked over my shoulder when she made her way over to me, hesitantly holding out a gorgeous velvet robe with gentle hands. "Here, Rose… this is for you."

"For me…?" I asked uncertainly, looking at the robe in awe. "It's so beautiful, though... it must have cost a lot."

"It's something I want you to have," the woman sighed, looking at me in a soft manner. "I want you to know that I'm here for you if you ever need me, okay?"

"Thank you," I murmured, averting my eyes with an awkward expression. "I appreciate that."

Phoebe smiled and gently draped the robe across my shoulders before sliding her hands beneath my long hair and gently pulling it out from underneath the velvet. When she smoothed my hair out and gently set her long-fingered hands on my shoulders, I hesitantly looked at her face through the mirror. She was smiling with an expression of gentle sympathy, so I immediately glanced away from her eyes. I didn't like being pitied by anyone, even friends.

_Wait, _I wondered, blinking in surprise, _when did I start thinking of Phoebe as my friend?_

"It looks good on you," the woman murmured, touching a few strands of my silver hair before she leaned down and hugged me with a sigh. "You've shut yourself away from the world for a long time... haven't you?"

"I guess so," I mumbled, looking at her exotic brown eyes. "I... I never really had any friends back home, you know?"

She examined our differences in the mirror: her curly brown hair, caramel skin, and slanted amber eyes contrasted wildly with my snowy hair, pale skin, and round violet eyes.

"The world's missed you, Rose," Phoebe murmured, pressing a kiss against my hair. "Anyway, happy tossing and turning."

"Good night," I quietly replied, watching as the young woman made her way towards the bathroom doors with a yawn; once she was gone, I shook my head and switched off the lamp on the desk before I padded over to the huge bed and crawled into it. When I pulled the sheets up to my chin and looked around the dark room, I felt kind of uneasy… but I figured it was probably just because I was sleeping in such a spooky, unfamiliar setting.

Then I happened to notice the carvings.

I immediately blinked, feeling a bit confused as to why they appeared to be looking down at me.

I mean, hadn't they all been staring straight ahead…?

I couldn't really remember if the children on the wall had looking down at the bed, but after a moment I disregarded it as a trick of the light.

Then I looked a little higher and swallowed hard, feeling nervous because of how disturbing the chandelier spikes looked to me: it almost felt as though they could come down and impale me at any time. I instantly took a deep breath and glanced around, trying to stop myself from thinking so irrationally. Then I saw the heads on the fireplace and straightened like a washboard on the mattress; my eyes widened a bit in alarm.

The sculpted heads had definitely turned... because right now, it looked almost as though they were staring straight at me.

"Okay!" I abruptly whispered, abruptly turning on my side and staring at the opposite wall with huge violet eyes. "Maybe this house _is _a bit freakier than I thought! I have half a mind to go sleep in Phoebe's room, but... well, I can't do that. I don't even know her all that well."

I felt extremely nervous, but since I had nowhere else to go, I went along with it and closed my eyes.

However, just before I fell asleep, I swore I heard a little boy whispering the Lord's Prayer into my ear... and for some reason... the disturbing sensation that I was being watched slowly melted into a much warmer feeling. I no longer felt afraid... because somehow, I knew for a fact that I was being guarded by something that loved me. I didn't know what it was... but there was definitely something, or _someone,_ watching over me as I slept.

And whatever it was... it was guarding me.

That much I was certain of.


	6. Chapter 5: Noises in the Night

**Chapter Five: Noises in the Night**

_Everything was black—almost as if I were resting inside of a cave at night: the only source of light was an odd green glow that swirled around me. Then... as if I were looking into a deep pond, the air in front of me rippled and something became visible: a black shape wavered in the gloom on the other side of the black wall, floating in the darkness. Then I saw more… and more… and more of them._

_However, when I realized what I was looking at, my heart skipped a beat._

_This was the dead in their lair._

_I clutched my chest as an unexpected stab of loneliness surged through my heart, and quite suddenly I felt the solitude of my life rising up. Why did I need to endure this pain? Why did I need to lose everyone and everything I've ever cared about? I was just a kid! I had never done anything to deserve losing my mother!_

_So, why…?_

_A few of the black shapes walked closer to me from the gloom, calling my name as their faces came into view. It was almost as though I was looking through murky water as they approached, but even so I longed to step through the veil and be there with them. Then I saw my mother… and I felt my heart crack right down the middle before it nearly shattered with grief. My mom ran up to the wall and got as as close as she could when she saw me, crying my name and apologizing._

_Tears were streaming from her eyes as she begged me to forgive her._

_My face contorted with grief and I thrust my arms out, pounding on the barrier in a futile attempt to reach my mom. My heart felt as though it were going to rip with the sorrow flooding through it: I let out a sob and stretched my hand to my mother's as tears began streaming from my eyes._

_"Mama!" I wailed, sobbing and trying to ignore the sound of my voice echoing away into the endless darkness. I wanted to be able to hug my mother again… to have her tell me that all the bad things would go away like she'd done when I was little. I didn't want to have to be afraid anymore… I wanted my mother back._

_I tried to reach out to her when she pressed her hand against the barrier and looked at me with large eyes: when I attempted to step through the wall, something grabbed my arms and began pulling me back. Irritated, I pulled harder. Someone was keeping me away from my mom, but I wouldn't let them... __I only had to reach her, then I would be safe.___

_Safe and happy… forever._

_"Let me go!" I screamed tearfully, voice sounding empty even to my own ears. "Mommy! Mommy!"_

_I was being pulled away—_

**BANG!**

**BANG!**

**BANG!**

When those three echoing knocks split the silence of the cold night air, I was out of bed before my eyes were fully open and stumbling for the bedroom door. The response was instinctive because of how many times I'd done it in the past: my mom was always in pain, so I had literally become adept at jerking myself awake no matter what.

"Coming, Mommy," I groggily called, stumbling as another set of soft bangs echoed all around me. "I'm coming… I'm coming… everything will be okay: the pain will stop, I promise, so please don't cry… just hang on, I'm coming!"

However, when four thunderous bangs split the air in response, I frowned a little as something inside my memory twitched.

After a moment of rubbing them, I groggily pulled my eyes open: I felt abnormally confused and disoriented when I found myself staring at a bedroom I'd never seen before. The grand furniture and gorgeous designs had me wondering if I was still dreaming: for several moments, I honestly had no idea where I was… and for some reason, I felt extremely uneasy even though I didn't really know _why_.

"Mom?" I called, struggling to keep my eyes open as I floundered around for my real bedroom wall. "Mommy, where are you?"

Unfortunately, that's when it hit me and I froze mid-step.

My mother was dead.

In fact, she had been dead for almost five months now.

So... who the hell was banging, and where the heck was it coming from?

In that moment, I completely woke up and remembered where I was.

"What on earth?" I whispered, shivering violently and looking around with enormous eyes. "I... I wasn't hearing things again, was I? I wasn't dreaming, right?"

My heart nearly stopped when three thunderous crashes resounded against the bedroom doors.

My violet eyes snapped open wide in fright and I abruptly stumbled backwards into the wall, hunching my shoulders as I tried to figure out what was going on. I twitched and let out a squeak of alarm when a heavy creaking noise began to come from the far side of the room… followed by a strange and very loud skittering noise: it sounded almost as though something were moving on the other side of the plaster and scratching at the wall to get inside my bedroom.

I stared at the dark study area with wary eyes, shivering as the creepy sounds continued.

"M-Mommy?!" I cried, voice coming out insanely shrill; I felt chills shocking my gut when more thunderous crashes smashed against the door. "STOP! YOU'RE NOT MY MOM!"

"R-Rose?!" Phoebe suddenly shouted, voice echoing from the bathroom behind me; I instantly whirled around, heading for the bathroom doors at a full sprint. My hair and nightgown billowed around as I frantically struggled to shove the huge doors open, but once I was through I closed them behind me and ran. "Rose!"

"I'm coming!" I cried, bolting over to her bed and clinging to her arm with large eyes; her dark hair was soaking wet and she looked severely spooked, but I couldn't help but notice that she was wearing a satin bathrobe with violet flowers on it. After a moment, she glanced at me and pulled me closer before staring at the walls with a disturbed expression on her face.

"I-I heard it!" the curly-haired beauty whispered in a shaken voice, clutching my arm and looking around. "The banging you mentioned!"

"That isn't the same banging, though!" I whispered nervously, glancing at her with large eyes. "That's _not_ my mom!"

"Where was it coming from?" Phoebe asked, staring at me with firm eyes. "Do you remember?"

"I don't know!" I stammered, shaking my head. "I thought it was coming from the hallway!"

"Wait… what's that sound?" the woman whispered, abruptly looking at her bedroom doors with furrowed brows. "Do... do you hear that?"

I held my breath and listened with a thudding heart, but when I heard a strange growling noise, I squeaked in terror and buried my face in her shoulder. After a moment, I hesitantly looked up again and the two of us stared at the doors with enormous eyes. The deep growling continued to emanate from the other side of them.

"It sounds like an animal," I whispered, staring at the doors in surprise. "It sounds like a _dog_! A _big_ dog!"

"Dogs don't growl like that! _Lions_ do!_"_ Phoebe carefully murmured, rubbing her arm; however, when something suddenly slammed into the bedroom doors and tried to force them open, the woman shrieked in terror and pulled me behind her four-poster curtain with shaking arms. "What the hell was that?! Is something trying to get in here?!"

"I have no clue! Just make it stop," I whined, squeezing my eyes shut as the banging continued. "Make it go away! I just want it to stop!"

The two of us were literally lying on the bed, holding each other with our limbs shaking in fright.

"W-what the hell is out there?!" Phoebe hissed, slowly sitting up and peering at the doors when things fell quiet. "Jesus, I wish Piper and Paige were here..."

"Who?" I asked, feeling confused.

"My sisters," the woman muttered, running a hand through her damp hair. "It's a long story."

The frightening noises had stopped and everything was completely silent, but I suddenly had a strange feeling in my gut. Phoebe looked at the doors and narrowed her eyes at them before she hesitantly stood up, pulling me to my feet without taking her eyes off the entrance; only a second later, she let out a gasp and started looking around as her breath became visible in front of her mouth and nose.

"Oh, God… what's happening?" she breathed, rubbing her arms and looking around. "It's cold!"

I shivered violently and hugged myself when it hit me like a slap in the face: my breath soon became visible as well.

"What's happening?!" I demanded, rubbing my arms and dancing from foot to foot. "Why is it so cold all of a sudden?!"

"The cold," Phoebe muttered, staring at me with sharp eyes. "You feel it, too?!"

"Uh-huh," I confirmed in a small voice, shivering with a small gasp as the temperature in the room rapidly began to drop; I swallowed hard when I realized that I could actually see my breath, and Phoebe's eyes widened when she realized just how cold it was getting. When I heard another scratching noise near the entrance, however, I glanced up with enormous eyes and stared at them in alarm: the entire room instantly seemed to echo with a series of creaks. "P-Phoebe... look!"

It was almost as though the doors were under immense pressure...

Only a split second later, something slammed into them once again and started bashing the entrance with the force of a gorilla.

There was no possible way that a human being could have hit the wood hard enough to generate a bang as loud as the ones we were hearing. When I heard another frightening growl, I stumbled backwards a little and tripped over the rug, staring at the locked entrance with stricken violet eyes. I had no idea what was going on, but there was something evil outside of Phoebe's bedroom.

And it was obviously trying to get in.

"What the hell is out there?!" Phoebe finally shrieked, running over to the desk and hefting a tiny penknife. "You'd better go away before I get serious! I mean it! You don't know who you're messing with, buster!"

The creaking noises abruptly halted, but somehow… I don't even _know_ how… I abruptly knew that whatever was out there was moving away from us.

It was almost as though I could see its progress with my mind.

"It's moving," I whispered, following its progress through the walls with my eyes. "I... I think it's moving..."

However, my heart leapt into my throat and I fell silent when I realized it was heading towards _my_ bedroom. _My_ doors were unlocked, which meant that whatever the hell was trying to get at us could definitely make its way in there. Phoebe shakily blinked at me and looked around when the air rapidly began to warm up; she held out hand and breathed against it, but she looked immensely relieved when her icy breath quickly faded away into nothing.

Soon, her breath was no longer visible.

"It's over," she quietly exclaimed, looking at me with uncertain eyes. "It's over… right?"

I didn't answer: my eyes were wide because I knew it wasn't over yet.

The evil sensation that was emanating from the other side of the bathroom doors somehow gave me the impression that whatever had been in the hall was now inside my room. I hesitantly made my way over to the bathroom, long hair sliding against my back as I tiptoed across the floor. When Phoebe realized what I was doing, she darted forward and flapped her arms.

"Get back here!" she hissed, clenching her fists with an outraged expression in her eyes. "Don't you dare go off on your own!"

"I'm just checking something, I promise!" I whispered back, giving her a reassuring glance over my shoulder. "Do you think I'd even _want_to leave after all that?!"

"Well, not when you put it like that," Phoebe muttered, rubbing her arms with a shiver. "Just hurry up, okay?"

However, I was no longer listening: I had stopped dead in my tracks and was staring at the doorknob with an icy sensation shocking my gut. The handle had slowly begun to turn with a small squeaking noise, so I instantly leapt forward and slammed my hand against the deadbolt, locking the bathroom doors with quick and precise movements.

Not even a second later, something slammed against them so hard that they almost _broke_.

"Holy shit!" Phoebe immediately cried, bolting forward and dragging me away. "Get back! Back, back, back! The last thing I need is you getting bitten in half by a wild animal or whatever the hell that thing is!"

"It's in my room! It's in my room!" I screeched, flailing towards the doors in terror. "That _thing_ is in my _room_!"

"What the hell is it?!" the woman demanded, looking at me with wide eyes. "What's in there?!"

"I don't know!" I wailed, covering my eyes with shaking hands. "How the hell would I know what it is?! It's in my room!"

However, three more bangs on Phoebe's bedroom doors made us shriek... but we nearly melted into puddles of relief when we heard Lyle's voice from the hall.

"Lassies! Are you all right?" the Scottish man called, pounding on the wood. "Oi, are you girls okay?"

"Oh, God," Phoebe groaned In relief, looking at me with shaken brown eyes. "It's Lyle."

However, when the woman angrily stormed over to the bedroom doors, I looked at the locked entrance leading to bathroom and wondered whether or not she was correct. I swallowed a bit before hastily following my dark-haired acquaintance, watching with shaken violet eyes as she let Lyle and Milo in. The blonde boy looked sleepy as always, but he _did_ seem a bit disturbed. For a long moment, the two of them stared at our frightened expressions with confusion on their faces.

"Lyle, Milo!" Phoebe exclaimed, bounding up to them with large amber eyes. "Did you guys hear it, too?"

"We definitely heard it," the burly man replied, frowning in confusion. "Kind of hard to miss."

"Well, was it part of the experiment or something?" the woman asked, folding her arms with a frantic expression. "Like… was it a test?"

"What do you mean?" Milo asked in a monotone, blinking a few times in confusion. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"The noises!" Phoebe snapped, dropping her arms in dismay. "Seriously, what did _you _guys hear?"

"Phoebe, all we heard was you and the little lass screaming," Lyle retorted, furrowing his brows. "We were takin' a walk together since neither of us could really sleep thanks to how creepy this place is, ya know?"

"But something was banging on the doors!" the woman cried, making them step back and stare at her with wary eyes. "Whatever the hell was out there actually tried getting into my bedroom! It _even_ went into Lillian's room and tried coming in here through our joined bathroom! It was growling like a wild animal, I swear!"

"Let me take a look," Lyle muttered, narrowing his lime green eyes before he swaggered into the room and made his way towards the bathroom. I watched with an apprehensive feeling in my gut as he opened the doors and flicked on the lights, but when he looked around, nothing was there.

I gently pressed close to Phoebe's side.

"Is it in there?" I whimpered, looking around in alarm. "Do you see it?"

"I don't see _or_ hear anything," Lyle commented, poking around my room; after a moment, he turned around in a circle and frowned at us in dismay. "Jeez… I really got _screwed_ on the room selections… every living area I've seen so far has been four times bigger than mine."

"Let's go down to the kitchen," Milo murmured, stepping forward with a yawn. "I have an idea."

"What do you mean?" Phoebe demanded, scowling down at him; the blonde merely blinked at her.

"Trust me," he sighed, motioning for us to follow him. "I know what I'm doing."

When we all followed him down the hall, he stopped by Dr. Maero's room and knocked on the door before giving the man a quick explanation about what was going on. Then our group headed down to the kitchens and did as the blonde instructed us to do: once we were all sitting down and everything was calm, he went over to the sink and turned on the faucet. Almost immediately, the entire room was filled with a creaking noise. Phoebe flinched before looking around with furrowed brows... but then her eyes widened and she cocked her head in total amazement. Milo let the water run for a moment before he turned off the faucet and looked at us: the creaking continued for several more minutes and the kitchen door shuddered violently and jolted on its hinges before everything became still: silence reigned for a moment.

Then, just a few short seconds later, the groaning and jiggling started up in another area.

"Is that it?" Milo calmly asked, looking at the two of us with sleepy blue eyes. "Is that what you heard?"

"Well, I did just take a bath…" Phoebe hesitantly admitted, looking way more relieved than I personally felt. "I mean, it _could_ have been… after all, the kitchen and pantry doors did just jump around a lot because of the water pipes, right? And the pipes did sound like a growl, sort of... so maybe the bedroom doors reacted the same way."

"Yeah, but how do you explain the breath, and the cold?" I asked in a small voice, rubbing my arms and nervously glancing around. "It couldn't have been pipes, right?"

I didn't want to admit it, but I was still scared. That situation was nightmare material for a person as paranoid of the paranormal as me.

"I dunno… a draft?" Phoebe suggested, looking at me with a much calmer visage. "Maybe someone left a window open?"

"The cold…" Dr. Maero suddenly muttered, looking at the two of us. "Who felt it first?"

"Oh, I think it was me," Phoebe replied, thinking back with furrowed brows. "Rose felt it afterwards."

"What difference does it make?" I asked without thinking, giving him an odd look. "I don't see how knowing the answer to that question could give us an answer as to what happened. I don't need someone else to tell me when I'm cold, and it was freezing in that room for a while… like, as in, below thirty degrees!"

"She's right," the olive-skinned woman sighed. "It got so cold that we could see our breath."

"It's below zero out tonight," Milo murmured softly, carefully looking at his watch. "I have a barometer _and_ a weather thermometer built into my watch, and it's powered through the satellite systems, so I'm pretty sure it's cold enough to snow outside."

"Well, then let's blame it on the old plumbing then, eh?" Lyle finally grunted. "What else could it be?"

"If you don't need me anymore, I guess that's it," Dr. Maero yawned, scratching at his stubble. "I'm gonna head back to bed now… I've got paperwork to take care of."

"Yeah, I'm gonna try turning in, too," Phoebe sighed, looking calm for the first time in a while. "I feel a lot better now."

"Night," Lyle called, waving at me as he and the other two adults left the kitchens. "Try and get some sleep."

I remained sitting where I was with my hands folded in my lap to keep them from shaking; Milo glanced at me for a moment before he shrugged and filled a cup of hot water. Then he grabbed a tea bag out of the cupboard and plopped it in the mug before sitting down in the chair right next to me. He stared at my face for several minutes as I gazed at the floor, trying to calm my heart and steel my nerves again.

"You wanna know a secret?" Milo suddenly asked, opening his sleepy eyes all the way for the first time that I'd seen as he regarded me. "It might make you feel upset or even a bit scared… but still, I think you might want to know about it anyway since you seem more than a little on edge."

"What?" I curtly asked, looking up at him in irritation. "Just say it."

"I've been hearing strange noises all day long," the blonde muttered, shrugging his shoulders when my face paled, "and I know for a fact that they aren't being caused by the building settling with age. I keep hearing kids giggling everywhere... in fact, I heard them long before we were told the fairy tale story during dinner."

"That's not exactly helping my mood," I muttered, shuddering a bit as I glanced around. "The last thing I want to _be_ is _scared_… I _hate_showing my emotions to people."

"Really?" Milo asked, lifting his eyebrows in curiosity. "Was that a secret?"

"Sort of," I replied, giving a little shrug and wincing internally at my slip of character. "Not many people know about it, so I guess you could say that."

"Well… how about I tell you a secret about me, then?" Milo suggested, smiling a little before he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out at me: I looked at him and glanced away in momentary irritation at the expression he was making… but then I blinked in surprise and my gaze snapped back to his mouth. He had _inch_-_long_ canines extending from both his upper _and _lower jaw.

"Holy shit!" I squeaked, cursing before I could stop myself. "Are you a vampire?!"

"Uh… no," Milo deadpanned, blue eyes twinkling in amusement as he looked at me, "although, a lot of people used to _think_ I was until they got to know me. I have fangs because of an unknown calcium-growth defect, but when I was given the option to have them filed down, I refused to do it."

"Why?" I asked, staring at him in disbelief. "Those things look sharp enough to kill someone!"

"Er, they probably _are_, considering I've accidentally cut my fingers on them a few times," Milo sheepishly admitted, giving me a little shrug. "As for why I refused… well, for one thing, they make me who I am because this is how I was born; for another, I don't trust doctors enough to let them stick anything dangerous in my mouth; and finally, I wouldn't be me without my fangs. They give me physical individuality."

I was rather surprised that I could actually understand the mindset behind his statement.

"That's actually kind of cool," I murmured thoughtfully, unclasping my hands and resting my chin on the table with pondering eyes. "I kind of understand it, too… I mean, if there were any possible way to cure being an _albino_, I wouldn't take up the offer. I _like_ having something that sets me apart."

"Just by being the way you are, you stand out," Milo droned, speaking just as quietly; then he blinked a few times and frowned at the table in surprise. "You know, you're the first person in almost two years that I've talked to willingly… I wonder why you give off such a warm feeling compared to other people."

"I give off a warm feeling?" I asked, snorting in surprise. "If you tried telling that to anyone at my old school, you'd have people laughing at you all over the city. Everyone back home thought I was cold, quiet, abnormally introverted, and had a very creepy mother complex. I'm an ice queen, buddy: I don't do warmth."

"Is that so?" the blonde scoffed, mouth twitching before he sniggered. "I don't get that at all."

"It's true, though," I groaned, rolling my eyes. "They really did believe that crap about me, and I really didn't give them a reason not to."

"They're blind," Milo chuckled gently, averting his eyes. "You may look like an ice queen, but your eyes give off a very warm feeling."

I shot a confused look at him to find that that he was looking at me... not through me, like most of the guys at my old high school had done.

His sky blue eyes were running over my face and lingering on the features that made me who I was: my delicate chin and small nose, like he was judging them; my white hair, which shimmered like silver water in the dim light; and my violet eyes that somehow managed to look at him without actually making eye-contact.

Then he kissed me, and my heart froze: he had literally just stolen my first kiss.

When he pulled away, his cheeks were flushed scarlet and he looked a little scared.

I shivered a bit and my face turned tomato red when he glanced at the table and hunched his shoulders: it was around that moment that I realized I knew absolutely nothing about him. A boy that I didn't even know had stolen my first kiss, but the most shocking part about it was the fact that it had… well, I honestly thought that it had somehow felt _right_. It was strange, and more than a little disturbing for me to feel so light.

My stomach was acting fluttery, in a weird way.

"Sorry," Milo awkwardly apologized, looking as though he were afraid I'd hit him. "I… I…"

"It's okay," I replied softly, looking at his shaken expression. "I get it… don't say another word."

And honestly, I did understand… we sat there at the table inside that creepy mansion, resting side by side in complete silence. A sudden chill tingled its way from my tailbone and up to my neck, sending me a premature warning of some future horror that hadn't yet happened. I glanced up and my eyes widened in alarm.

"Something's going to happen," I whispered, hugging myself with nervous eyes. "I can feel it."

"What do you mean?" Milo asked, glancing at me in surprise. "What's going to happen?"

"I don't know," I murmured, shaking my head. "I only know that something is going to happen."

"What are you—" Milo tried to say.

"Sometimes I know things before they happen," I interrupted, looking at the wall with a hollow feeling in my throat. "In fact, sometimes I can even see images in my head, like I'm watching a movie directly behind my eyes… but then, what I see will really _happen_. After it does... I always wonder if I made it happen by seeing it, or if I saw it because it was going to happen anyway. On top of that, I've always been sensitive to the paranormal, so... if this place really is haunted, I'll know soon enough."

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eyes just in time to see him shrugging in confusion.

"Are you serious?" Milo quietly inquired. "You're sensitive to the paranormal?"

"Yeah… I am," I agreed, slowly closing my eyes. "I know I probably sound crazy... but it's _true._ I've always been a little clairvoyant, so... yeah."

"I don't think you sound crazy," Milo murmured, looking at me with soft eyes. "I don't know how to explain it... but when I saw your eyes for the very first time earlier today, I… I-I really thought you were an angel. It did something to my heart."

"Why are you interested in me?" I demanded, instantly becoming wary. "I'm not interesting."

"I want to get to know you better," the blonde replied, smiling in a giddy manner and revealing his fangs; they glinted with a pearly gloss under the extremely old lights. Oddly enough, I believed him: there was something about the way he was looking at me that made his words ring true with an honest emotion. "You're beautiful."

Beautiful.

It was the first time anyone aside from my mother had ever called me that.

I don't know if that's what did it, but there was something about Milo in that very moment that ensnared me. His presence made my heart skip a beat and my normally pale cheeks flushed bright red: it was the first time I had ever blushed like this in my entire life, and the sensation made my ears burn as though they'd just been smacked by a diva on a rampage. I wasn't exactly sure how to react to the compliment he'd given me.

The world had stopped for a few blissful moments: I was feeling something that I was extremely unfamiliar with. However, when Milo finally looked at me with glazed blue eyes, I saw a look on his face that made my heart skip yet another beat. He wasn't smiling, and his face looked devoid of feeling... except for his eyes. His blue eyes had gone soft, somehow… as though the iciness of their color had melted.

"Sweet dreams," Milo croaked out, forcing a grin before he awkwardly stood up and stumbled for the kitchen door with a stiff back; I muffled a giggle when I noticed that the tips of his ears were a dark maroon... he probably hadn't even been expecting his actions, either. He was acting like he had no experience with romance at all.

"Well," I murmured awkwardly, standing up and making my way back to my room. "That makes two of us."

However, because of everything that had just happened with Milo, I was no longer afraid of whatever might come my way.

When I returned to my room, the doors to the bathroom were open, and I heard soft singing coming from Phoebe's room: she obviously wanted to make sure that nothing else happened. When I lay back down on my bed, I practically sank into the mattress… but then I crawled up to the headboard and snuggled beneath the cool, clean feathered blankets and sighed in relief. When I closed my eyes, I started falling asleep almost instantly… but I kind of fell into that area where you're still kind of conscious even though sleep is descending on you. I thought I was dreaming when I heard the creaking and felt the wind, but a moment later it got really cold.

Still almost asleep, I rolled over and turned my back on the draft… but then I heard something.

_"Liiiiily…" _a childish voice whispered in a ghostly, singsong voice. _"Liiiiiiilliaaaaan…."_

When I slowly lifted my heavy eyelids, I honestly thought I was dreaming because there was a beautiful little girl lying next to me: she was maybe around ten or eleven years old and looking at me with big, doe brown eyes through the soft brown curls that rested on the pillow. She was lying on her side, and I watched with dazed violet eyes as she set her little hand on mine, smiling in a loving manner: I didn't feel her touch, but I did feel an icy sensation that almost seemed to seep into my skin.

"What do you want?" I groggily mumbled, closing my eyes again. "I'm tired of having nutty dreams, so tell me what you want and go away."

"_Hide and seek…"_ the little girl whispered, speaking without moving her mouth; her brown eyes were flickering with fear in my mind's eye._"He'll get you."_

When I felt another freezing draft, my mind snapped to awareness and I opened my eyes all the way.

The little girl was gone from my bed, but the balcony doors had opened up somehow and the curtains were billowing around. I hastily got up and closed off the balcony, but then I turned around and pressed my back against the glass: I heard a distant giggle from somewhere nearby. Above my fireplace, all of the carved heads had somehow turned to face the balcony doors. I had been right: somehow, those carvings were watching me.

I decided to sleep with Phoebe after that.

The woman laughed her ass off when I walked into her room and passed out on her bed. I couldn't remember if she fell asleep holding me tight, but I do remember feeling warmth around my shoulders. I also remember the smell of floral bath soap… so probably. All I really remember, even to this day, is that I fell asleep in Phoebe's bed and had no more dreams that night. Which, I have to say, was a blessing after enduring so many unpleasant experiences.


	7. Chapter 6: 'Welcome Home'

**Chapter Six: "Welcome Home"**

_It was dark... I shivered a bit and opened my eyes, blinking in confusion as I gazed off into the shadows: for some reason, this darkness was very cold... and although I didn't know why, there was something about it that made me feel sick. After a moment, my violet eyes snapped open completely and I froze as an overpowering copper scent filled my nostrils: I immediately coughed and covered my mouth, long silver hair billowing around my body like a weightless cloud of satin._

"_Help!" a little girl yelped, voice abruptly echoing from somewhere out of the darkness. "Help me!"  
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_Almost immediately, flash of light filled the darkness, burning it away and searing my retinas. _

_My eyes widened in horror when I caught a glimpse of __a tiled room with a psych-ward hospital bed in the center of it. Another small burst of light __illuminated the blood splattered room in front of me at the same moment that the child screamed in a bloodcurdling manner. __My hands instantly flew to my mouth and I choked as the smell of copper increased._

_My shoulders began trembling violently as the darkness returned to the room. _

_I couldn't even comprehend what I'd just seen._

_"Help me!" a little boy shrieked, sounding closer than the girl had. "MOMMY! DADDY!"_

_Yet again, the room flashed with a burst of light... illuminating a tub full of a dark liquid and several blood-stained objects lying on a tray. My pupils contracted into tiny pinpricks and I sank to my knees, shivering violently as the darkness returned._

_"Where are you?!" I cried, lowering my hands and clutching my school shirt with trembling fingers. "Where?!"_

_"Help me!" a different little girl screeched, followed by two more children, and then five more... then hundreds, all screaming the same thing. "Help me! Help me! Help me! HELP ME! HELP ME!"_

_My eyes widened when an uproar of children's screams exploded out of the dark, causing dizzying flashes of bloody tools and red tiles to practically blind me. It was by far the most horrifying thing I'd ever experienced: the voices of children, boys and girls alike, all screaming for someone to help them. Hundreds of voices... I clamped my hands down over my ears and squeezed my eyes shut, frantically telling myself to wake up and get the hell out of the nightmare. _

_However... when the screams abruptly came to an end, I hesitantly opened my eyes again._

_Somehow, I felt as though something had entered the darkness with me... something extremely evil._

_My heart thumped violently when a pair of glowing white eyes appeared out of the shadows and __hovered directly in front of my face._

_"I don't want to die..." the eyes whispered in a demonic voice, looking straight into my soul. "I don't want to die..."  
><em>

Like the snap of a whip, my eyes snapped open wide and I froze like a statue. my breathing was ragged and my pulse was racing. After a moment, I sat up and pressed a hand against my forehead: strands of my silver hair were plastered against my cheeks and neck due to the cold sweat that had enveloped my entire body.

"It was just a dream…" I whispered hoarsely, closing my eyes. "It was only a nightmare. Not real. Thank God..."

Taking a deep breath, I shook my head before looking around in an attempt to figure out where I was: none of my bedroom furniture was present, but everything around me looked fit for a queen. It took me a few moments to remember the events of the previous evening.

I slowly turned my head and looked at the pillow beside me: Phoebe was snoring with her mouth wide open, and sure enough, I had been snuggled up against her arm the entire night. After a few moments of watching the woman sleep, I glanced at the window and yawned. Based on what I could see, the sun was rising but it was still fairly dark outside.

I let out a tired yawn as the terror from my nightmare faded away.

Then I slid out of Phoebe's bed and headed onto to the balcony, looking up at the cloudy sky with glazed eyes: my long hair was messy and my nightgown was disheveled, but I didn't really care. Even though the plush room behind me looked warm and inviting, there were simply too many things floating around in my mind that I needed to sort through. For starters, several things seemed very strange to me... and I also had an apprehensive feeling in my gut about what was going on within Chastity Gardens. The place had way too many twists and turns, as well as an odd architecture..

Another thing that bothered me had to do with what Mrs. Dudley had said.

She'd told me the walls had eyes... that the house would know I was here.

And also... that I needed to lock every door behind me.

I slowly lifted my hands and looked down at them, frowning when I noticed that they were still trembling a bit.

"There has to be a rational explanation for what happened last night," I finally murmured, hugging myself with a weak expression. "There's no way this place is haunted... right?"

"Personally, I think the pipes were to blame... I mean, they did make the kitchen doors jump, didn't they?" Phoebe yawned from behind me, making me leap into the air with a squeak; when I whirled around, I saw the woman rubbing her eyes with a sleepy expression. "Morning, Silverlocks... do you always get up so early?"

"Yeah... it's kind of a habit," I mumbled, hiding my shaking hands behind my back and flashing her a grin. "I'm still used to getting up for school each day._"_

"Ah, I remember those years," the Halliwell sister murmured, stepping forward and joining me by the edge of the balcony. "Yesterday night was pretty crazy, though, wasn't it? For a little while, I actually thought this place was haunted! I don't really think there's anything to worry about, though: for starters, this mansion is very, very old... so, if it were haunted, there'd definitely be someone who'd know about it. They'd have tipped Doctor Maero off, right?"

"But Mrs. Dudley said something weird to me when I first got here," I protested, ignoring it when Phoebe cocked a skeptical eyebrow. "Yeah, I know... taking advice from an old lady who seems a little off her rocker isn't exactly a smart idea, but... she said something about the walls having eyes. And, plus... well, um... okay, just follow me."

When Phoebe blinked, I waved her into the bathroom and timidly opened the doors to my room.

Then I pointed at the carved heads.

Phoebe stared in confusion, then looked at me with furrowed brows and leaned down next to my ear.

"So, what am I looking at?" she whispered, giving me an expectant expression. "Is there something weird on the carvings?"

"Eh?! No!" I squeaked, mouth falling open in shock before I pointed at the sculpted children in outrage. "Phoebe, how can you not see the way they... huh?"

I trailed off when I glanced at them, finger falling down to my side and eyes widening in disbelief.

Every single carved head was back in the position they'd been in when I first arrived, even the ones on my headboard. I felt my stomach twist and my face turned pale only a few moments before I glanced up at her with a feeble smile: the beautiful woman was looking at me with an expression of concern, but I was too spooked about what I was seeing to actually notice that much.

"You okay?" the woman asked, touching my forehead with a frown. "You don't look so good... you feel kind of feverish, too."

"I'm fine, so never mind," I sighed, shaking my head a little. "I... I guess I was only dreaming... or something."

"Well, if you say so," Phoebe sighed, rubbing her back with another yawn. "Anyway, I'm up for the day, so I might as well get dressed and start working on those packets the doctor gave us. Lord knows what kind of complicated stuff is inside that folder... I'll check up with you later, all right?"

"Yeah," I murmured, giving her a nod when she turned and headed back into her room. "Later, Phoebe."

After a few moments of shivering uncontrollably, I took a long glance at the carved heads in the room.

Then I pulled my nightgown over my head and slid on a loose floral skirt. Once that was done, I put on a black tank top and a baggy, off-the-shoulder sweater with an abnormally wide neck hole. It had been designed to rest on top of an undershirt since it left the wearer's shoulders completely open to the world: without anything beneath it, there was constant danger of it slipping down too far.

When I was fully dressed, I pulled on a set of white stockings and brushed my hair out before grabbing the packet Dr. Maero had given me. A knock came from my door soon afterwards, making me jump a bit.

"Um, hello?" I called, staring at it with hesitant eyes. "It isn't locked, so feel free to come inside."

"Thank you, Lass," Lyle boomed in a cheerful voice, opening the double doors with a laugh. "I didn't think you'd be up so early in the morn."

"You were wrong: I'm an early bird, and I actually kind of enjoy getting a head start on the day," I carefully admitted, making my bed with a determined expression when the man lumbered inside and leaned against the wall with amused green eyes. "Anyway, what brings you to my room? Did you need something?"

"Yeah, actually," the man chuckled, grinning in embarrassment. "I was wondering how old you think I am since Milo just said he thought I was in my late thirties."

"Eh?" I snorted, staring at him in surprise; my hands halted as I paused. "Does that mean you're not?"

"Well, no... not even close," the man chuckled, wincing a little before he touched his beard in dismay. "I'm only twenty years old, to tell ya the truth."

"Eh?!" I immediately squealed, violet eyes growing wide in unholy shock. "No way! Are you seriously that young?!"

"Serious as a heart attack," the Scottish man sighed, shrugging his massive shoulders. "Maybe I should trim the beard a bit...?"

"Uh... well, that actually might be a good start," I timidly proffered, giving him a shrug as I smoothed the blankets down and grabbed my packet. "Why'd you come to _me_ with that question, though?"

"Despite being a married woman, Phoebe's a little too attractive to ask her opinion on something like this," Lyle awkwardly chuckled, turning redder than his hair for a moment. "If you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I can kind of get where you're coming from," I murmured, grinning a little when he shuffled his shoes "She _is_ a pretty woman."

"Welp, I think I'm going to get some chow from the kitchens," Lyle sighed, rubbing his beard with a speculative expression. "Later, Lassie... and thanks."

"Okay, see you," I called, shaking my head in disbelief; however, I twitched in surprise when the temperature around me abruptly dropped a few degrees and a sickly sweet scent filled my nostrils. My pupils became enormous as the cloying smell wafted around my body, rippling tendrils of my silken white hair. However, when the I got a static-filled mental flash of blood dripping onto a tiled floor, my breath hitched. "Wait... wait, Lyle... what's that smell...?"

"Pardon?" the man asked, turning around and looking at me in surprise. "What do you mean? What smell?"

I slowly turned and stared at the enormous doors leading to the bathroom Phoebe and I shared.

_What the heck is that...?_ I whispered silently, gazing at the entrance with blank violet eyes. _More importantly, where is it coming from? It... can't be coming from the bathroom, right?_

"Is something wrong, lass?" Lyle asked, frowning at me in concern. "You just turned extremely pale, even for an albino... your skin is almost see-through."

"No, it's nothing," I instantly protested, turning away from the bathroom and waving my hands. "I'm fine, really! Anyway, I think I'll come with you since I'm feeling kind of hungry... and plus, Mrs. Dudley said that she doesn't wait on people, didn't she? Might as well get an early start!"

The moment I took my eyes off the bathroom, the air warmed up again and the disgusting scent vanished.

Lyle stared at me for a few moments longer, then he simply nodded and we left the room together.

I kept my eyes on the beautiful marble floors as we walked down the hall, side by side. After breakfast, I headed off towards the grand staircase and moved down into the lobby area with the enormous fireplace I'd seen upon entry. The lions on top of it looked positively enormous, and the dangling chain curtain that was meant to keep the fire from escaping seemed rather imposing... but the feeling it gave off was abnormally eerie.

I could seriously see why Mrs. Dudley wouldn't like being alone in a house like this.

There was something... wrong about it.

The fireplace itself was indeed about the size of my mother's bedroom back home.

I could have easily fit her queen-sized bed and all of her other furniture inside it.

After a few moments of gaping at the masterpiece, I hefted my work packet and curled up on one of the nearby couches. I instantly marveled at how plush and soft they were, but then I determinedly opened my folder and looked at the tests. I was kind of surprised when I saw simple things, such as pencil mazes, little mentality puzzles, and mathematical questions. It was the kind of stuff meant for IQ tests: perhaps the doctor was testing our level of comprehension?

"Regardless," I murmured quietly, cocking my head before I grabbed the pen and pressed the end of it with a mischievous click. "This stuff looks fun!"

And that was the truth: I adored puzzles, especially puzzles that required intellectual comprehension.

Thus began my first day at Chastity Gardens.

I sat there for almost six hours, working on all the puzzles, geometrical problems, and quizzes the packet had been holding inside of it. However, it was around lunch time when I heard a strange noise coming from the fireplace: when I glanced up and looked at it, a deafening bang came from behind me and I instantly shot off the couch.

I nearly died of relief when I turned around and saw Phoebe struggling to pick up the statue she'd just knocked over by accident. I instantly got up and hurried over to help her lift it the rest of the way.

"Ugh... thanks, kiddo!" the woman panted, blinking at me before she stared at the statue she'd knocked over. "Man, some of these carvings are weird. I mean, I get the fact they're artsy, but come on."

"Tell me about it," I muttered, heading back over to the couch with a nod of agreement. "Most of them are beautiful, but there _are_ a few sculptures here and there that kind of give me the creeps."

"Well, you and me both," the witch sighed, making her way over to the fireplace. "All of these fat little cherubs, and angels, and furry animals... it's really bizarre, you know? I mean, why'd he make this stuff?"

"I think the cherubs are supposed to represent the children Kraine built the manor for," I thoughtfully replied, picking up my pen again and tracing a line through a maze full of ghosts and optical-illusion walls. "As for the angels and the animals... well, maybe he wanted the cherubs to feel guarded and safe? Some people are weird like that."

"I don't buy that for a second," Phoebe immediately snorted, glancing at me in amusement before she looked back up at the lions above the fireplace. "For some reason, that story Dr. Maero told us seems to ring false in my ears... well, aside from Kraine's wife committing suicide. That's the only part that had the ring of truth."

"The ring of truth?" I asked in confusion, blinking a few times at the maze before I processed the statement and glanced at her in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Phoebe froze and stared off into space, making me tilt my head in curiosity.

"Well, uh... you see, I can... kinda tell when people are lying to me, that's all," the woman carefully explained, looking at me in a way I hadn't yet experienced; she looked a little flustered. "Don't ask me why... because, um, I honestly don't get it myself. It's just... a talent I was born with?"

"Wow, really?" I asked, staring at her in awe. "That's awesome! So, you can tell whenever someone is lying to you?"

"Well, yeah, in a nutshell," Phoebe sighed, wincing for reasons unknown to me. "It's a bit of a secret, though... and plus, my sister said that Doctor Maero was highly respected for everything he's done. And after doing my own research, I'm having a little bit of an internal conflict since he's the first person I've ever doubted my talents with."

"Eh? What do you mean?" I hesitantly asked, tracing the ink from my pen around a wall before doubling back and crossing the finish line. "Is there any particular reason?"

"Well, yeah, but after this... just forget I told you about this," Phoebe muttered, letting out a sigh before she rubbed her eyes. "When he said he was looking for a way to cure insomnia... I felt like he was lying."

For several moments, I said nothing since the feeling Phoebe's words gave me was an uncomfortable one.

"Why?" I finally asked, looking up at her with a curious expression. "What could he possibly be lying about? I mean, he's paying all of us six to nine hundred dollars a week just to be here, and on top of that... he seems genuinely concerned with trying to help us with our psychological problems."

"That's why I'm doubting myself," the woman explained, plopping down on the couch beside me and opening her own packet; after a moment, she yawned and pulled a mechanical pencil from behind her ear. "Anyway, what are your thoughts? About everything, I mean?"

"Personally? This place is just... I don't know," I muttered, shaking my head. "I've got a weird feeling about this mansion, but none of the others really seem to notice anything strange about it."

"Is that so?" Phoebe drawled, giving me a half-lidded look. "Well, then, for the sake of getting an answer no matter _what_ you say, can I ask you something?"

"Um... sure?" I suggested, not really knowing how to respond to that. "Feel free."

"Have you... heard any little kids laughing? Like, at all?" Phoebe asked, glancing at me with furrowed brows. "Or do you think I'm simply a nut job for asking that?"

For a long moment, I kept my mouth shut since my heart turned cold... but then, I shrugged.

"Yes, there have been a few times when I thought I heard something like that," I explained, nodding a few times. "In fact, just last night... even Milo admitted to hearing something like it, but he didn't really go into that much detail. Frankly, this entire house is beautiful, but it gives me the creeps."

"I agree, but you didn't answer the second part of the question," Phoebe chuckled in amusement. "Ya know, the part where you think I'm a nut job."

I hid an amused smirk when she chuckled.

"No, I don't think you're a nut job," I finally sighed, rolling my eyes before focusing on my papers. "Don't worry."

"Well, that's a relief," Phoebe sighed, scrawling her pencil across the paper until until her stomach growled. "Well, that's embarrassing. I guess it's chow time... do you want me to bring some trays back so we can eat together? The boys are kind of in their own little bubble down in the kitchen, so it seems like us girls are the only ones who aren't doing their own thing. If you wouldn't mind, I think it'd be nice to work together for a while."

"Sounds like fun," I admitted, feeling extremely relieved. "I wouldn't mind having some company."

"Awesome, I'll go get us some lunch, then," Phoebe laughed, giving me a crooked grin. "Be back soon! Promise!"

"All right," I called, lowering my eyes back to the puzzle I was working on when she got up. "Don't get lost!"

When I heard the massive doors sliding shut, I sighed in relief.

I was feeling a little optimistic despite everything that had happened recently.

I was still reeling from the fact that I had been given the opportunity to move into a mansion on the same day I'd been told I was going to lose my home: regardless of how creepy the place was, it was big, it was beautiful, and it was the best opportunity to further myself that I had ever been given. Nine hundred dollars a week was a lot of money... especially if we were going to be living here for six months.

Since we couldn't leave for the duration of our stay, none of it would be burning holes in my pocket.

I'd have more than ten thousand dollars by the time I left... it was enough to rent an apartment somewhere, enroll myself into a good school, and give me enough time to find a job. If I was careful and rationed the earnings I made for necessities only, I'd definitely be able to make the best of my situation. I was bound and determined to make the best of whatever came my way: nothing would deter me from my decision.

However, just as I was thinking this, the chains in the fireplace rattled a little.

I glanced up from my paper with confused eyes to find that the chain curtain was slowly starting to move as though a breeze were running through them. My brows furrowed when they continued moving, but I twitched in surprise when a strange-looking shadow slid across the farthest edge.

However, when the sickly-sweet smell from earlier filled my nostrils, my heart nearly stopped: it looked to me like something or someone was standing inside the fireplace, just out of my vision range. When I squinted and tilted my head around, I was stymied since it was really nothing but a shadowy silhouette.

"H-hello?" I finally called, staring at the fireplace with uncertain eyes. "Is... is anyone there?"

Almost immediately, two cold sensations seeped into my shoulders with an odd pressure, and a frigid breeze made my long silver hair billow around: I froze, both from the touch on my body and what immediately began happening in the fireplace. I started breathing a little faster when the shadow inside the fireplace began to move around.

As I watched, I felt a surreal cloud fall over my mind, as though I wasn't really witnessing this.

After all, it wasn't real, was it?

If it was real, what the hell was happening? And more importantly, how? Things like this weren't normal!

But even as these thoughts and more flashed through me, the shadows continued moving, and panic filled my chest.

For several moments, I did nothing but sit frozen on the couch, my heart thumping and breathing rapidly. Then, a prickle went up and down my spine and spots flashed across my eyes: the cold breeze from behind lifted a long strand of my silver hair over my head and sent it sliding down in front of my face.

Without warning, the shadowy figure exploded outwards and seemed to fill the entire fireplace.

"W-what the hell?!" I squealed, breath catching in my throat. "Who's there?! How are you doing that?!"

However, even as I watched, an enormous creature instantly swung down with a thunderous noise, making me leap off the couch with a gasp. I stared at the enormous monster behind the ash chains with enormous eyes, practically hyperventilating. Whatever the hell I was looking at slowly glided back and forth in a threatening manner.

"What the hell _is_ that?!" I squeaked, voice so coming out so high that I could barely hear myself. "A monster?!"

Almost as if the word were calling it, it charged the metal curtain and crashed into it.

"EYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" I screeched, dropping my papers and bolting for the doors. "HEEEEEEELP!"

Struggling frantically, I dragged the colossal doors open and wriggled through them the moment the gap was wide enough, still screaming my head off: I ran through almost six corridors at to speed with my long hair flying, but when I bolted around a corner without looking where I was going, I crashed clean into Doctor Maero and both of us went crashing to the ground. Papers instantly went flying everywhere, but I was too terrified to care about that.

"What on earth?!" the man spluttered, sitting up and looking at me when I curled up into a ball and burst into tears. "Oh, dear... were you hurt?!"

"T-the fireplace!" I screeched, clutching his arm and shaking it in terror. "T-The fireplace! The fireplace! I saw something in the fireplace! There's something in the fireplace! Waaaahahaah!"

"Dear, God, calm down!" the man stammered, lifting his hands when I started wailing. "What did you see?!"

"The fireplace!" I bawled, unable to get a breath in. "The fireplace! Waaaaah!"

"Lillian, what did you see?" Dr. Maero calmly inquired, clasping my shoulders and squeezing gently in an attempt to make me calm down. "Tell me! Do you remember what it looked like?"

"I don't—_hic!_—know what it was! At first I thought it was just—_hic!_—a trick of the light, but then it MOVED! Like, _really_ moved!" I bawled, rubbing my streaming eyes as I fought to stop crying; I knew I looked gross since I'm disgusting when I cry. "Whatever it was, it was—_hic!_—big! Really, REALLY big!"

"Big?" the man inquired, furrowing his brows in confusion. "Okay... okay, calm down: let's go find the others. We'll find out what you saw, all right?"

"Okay," I hiccuped, rubbing my eyes and letting him help me up; ten minutes later, me, Phoebe, Milo, Lyle, and the good doctor himself were walking through the doors I had so recently run through, but I clamped my hand onto the woman's sleeve when I saw the fireplace. "It was in there... t-that's where I saw it."

Doctor Maero and Lyle both walked up to the metal curtain and parted the chains to look inside the fireplace.

"Are you okay?" Phoebe whispered, glancing down at me in concern when my fingers tightened on her sleeve. "You're shaking like a leaf... are you gonna be okay?"

"I... I don't know," I admitted, swallowing and rubbing my puffy eyes. "I... I've never been that scared before. I don't even know what the hell I just saw."

"First of all, were you in here alone?" Dr. Maero inquired, glancing at me in curiosity. "When you saw the apparition that scared you, I mean?"

"Y-yeah, Phoebe had just left to go get us some lunch trays," I confirmed, giving him a little nod, "but... I... wouldn't describe what I saw as an apparition... at least, not after I noticed it was really there. At first, it was like I was looking at a shadow, but then the shadow exploded outwards and... and... some sort of _monster_ appeared."

"A monster?" Phoebe asked, eyebrows widening in startled surprise; she instantly looked serious. "_That's_ what you think you saw? A monster?!"

"Well, monster is the only word I can think of to describe it," I stated firmly, letting go of Phoebe in order to hug myself. "It... it almost looked solid, but at the same time... it sort of glided back and forth without touching the ground. Then it _flew_ towards the ash curtain. When it made contact, I panicked and bolted for the doors."

"Er, I didn't see anything," Phoebe admitted, noticing the doctor's inquiring glance, "but... well, this place is definitely creepy enough to picture it happening."

"Lyle, help me get the ash curtain open," Dr. Maero stated, and both of them instantly jerked it apart using their combined strength. "There we go..."

I felt Phoebe's hand on my shoulder when they stepped inside and began looking around with confused eyes, but nothing was inside the fireplace aside from the charred stone walls. After a moment, the burly redhead turned around and looked at us with a baffled shrug and the skinny doctor glanced at me with furrowed brows.

After a moment the Scottish male noticed a hatch beneath his feet and glanced down: for several moments, he tapped it with his foot. Then he knelt and attempted to lift it up: however, his eyes widened in surprise and he strained with all of his strength, muscles bulging as he lifted the hatch up.

"What is it?" Phoebe called, stepping forward and trying to get a glimpse of whatever was inside the hatch. "An underground chamber or something?"

"No," Dr. Maero sighed, frowning a little as the burly redhead poked around. "Just ashes and ancient charred wood."

"Not much to worry about: whatever you saw is gone now," Lyle finally chuckled, letting the metal hatch slam closed with a deafening bang that echoed throughout the entire room and made everyone flinch; then in the spirit of cheering us all up, the burly redhead leaned to the side and peered up the dark chimney with a huge grin. "Santa, are you still there?! We've got lots of scared children down here!"

A thundering crash instantly came down, making his face go slack.

Not even a split second later, an enormous carved object swung out of the gloomy shadows.

Doctor Maero immediately shoved Lyle out of the way and pressed himself against the wall only a split second before it was too late: ot's appearance had very nearly taken the burly man's head off. Everyone jumped away from the fireplace with shouts of alarm when the object started swinging back and forth.

"JESUS!" Phoebe gasped, jumping back with a startled expression when the sound of mechanical gears grinding filled the air; I instantly huddled down and covered my face with both hands, shivering violently as the carved object slowly started moving back up towards the darkness. From what I had seen, It was a carved lion's head. "God! Oh, God, are you guys all right?!"

"Yeah, we're fine," the doctor called back, eying the ascending carving with a shaken expression. "What I'm wondering is what the hell I'm looking at right now."

"It's a flu," Milo jumpily explained, eyeing the disappearing lion's head with large blue eyes. "It's an old flu! It opens up the chimney to keep smoke from being trapped inside!"

"Dear God..." Phoebe sighed, clutching her chest as she tried to stop her racing heart; then she glanced at me in concern and gestured at the fireplace. "Is this what you saw?"

I stared at the lion's head and pictured how it had been swinging in a pendulum-like manner... then I compared it with the thing I'd seen earlier. My heart turned cold and I swallowed when I realized that the movement patterns hadn't been similar at all.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head as I stared at the fireplace. "No, that isn't what I saw... that isn't it at all."

"Hey, are you okay?" Milo asked Lyle when he rubbed his neck with a fearful expression. "Are you all right?"

"What?" the man asked, looking at the blonde with dazed eyes. "What did you say?"

"I asked if you were all right," the boy explained, touching his arm in concern. "Are you okay?"

"No, of course I'm not okay!" the redhead stammered, looking at the fireplace with huge eyes. "Did you not see that thing?! It almost crushed me!"

"Yes, of course I saw it!" Milo retorted, instantly becoming defensive. "Sheesh, I was only asking."

"Rose, that's what you saw," Doctor Maero sighed, stepping out of the fireplace and touching my shoulder. "The flu coming down is all it was, okay? Now, I understand that it must have terrified you... it's perfectly rational that you were scared. It scared the hell out of me, too. The shadows you saw were most likely caused by all the soot coming from the chimney before the flu dislodged itself by accident and startled you."

"That wasn't it!" I instantly protested, looking up at him with large eyes. "That is _not_ what I saw, I swear!"

"Lillian," the man sighed, then closed his eyes for a moment and looked at me reproachfully. "I know this must be very confusing because of the shock. Some people see things a certain way and set subconscious expectations for those things to look the same later on, when in fact, that is rarely the case. This is one of those situations: because of the shock that you're most likely experiencing right now, your mind is confused."

"Look at me," I stated firmly, staring into his eyes with a serious expression. "I am _not_ confused: I _saw_ something behind those chains, and that carving _wasn't_ it. There was something _in_ there!"

"What could it have been, though, if not the flu?" Lyle warily inquired, looking at the fireplace with uneasy eyes. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Uh... guys?" Milo suddenly called, voice coming out as nothing more than a frightened squeak. "You should come take a look at this... like, seriously."

"What is it?" Doctor Maero asked, glancing over his shoulder to find the blonde boy standing at the foot of the grand staircase and staring up at the painting of the albino man. When we all hurried over, my eyes went blank because I saw something strange on the wall... but then, I covered my mouth with both hands, eyes snapping open wide with unholy shock.

Every single person stopped walking and stared at it as well.

The words_ 'Welcome Home, Lillian Primrose' _had been smeared on the wall and painting in what looked to be dark red paint. That wasn't all, though... the albino man's face looked as though it had been bleached off to nothing more than a skeleton with hair. As I stood there staring at it, a grandfather clock somewhere in the mansion began to chime, filling the air with an eerie gonging sound.

The world around me faded away as I stared at those words... faded into the glittering noise of the clock.

It faded into haunting words that had been painted with a coat of deep red...

"Welcome home Lillian Primrose?" Lyle asked, snapping me out of my daze and furrowing his brows. "What's that mean? Lillian's last name is Malory, isn't it?"

"His face... his face is... it's _gone_!_"_ Phoebe whispered, staring at the painting in horror. "How the hell did someone do that...? I don't know very much about art, but I do know enough to understand that what I'm looking at right now is impossible to do. It looks like someone washed the painting and then _repainted_ it to look like a bloody skull!"

"No... this isn't right. That's... that's _my_ name," I whimpered softly, eyes growing even wider when I realized the implications; everyone turned to stare at me when I clenched my fists and whirled around with a terrified glare. "I never told any of you my real last name! Who... who did this?! Who wrote this?!"

I felt like I was about to cry again... that's how scared I was.

"I'd like to know, too," Phoebe immediately stated, turning a glare on the others. "Who did this?!"

"Who knows?" the Scottish man asked, looking at her in surprise; then he glanced at me with a blink before looking at Milo with furrowed brows. "I have a politer sense of humor than you probably think. Who knows, maybe it was Milo!"

"Eh?!" the blonde boy squeaked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise when Phoebe glared at him. "Wait, no! W-why would you think I did it?!"

"Well, you _found_ it," the woman pointed out, cocking her hip with a suspicious expression. "You _could_ have done it."

"With _what?!_" Milo immediately squawked, flailing his arms at the writing that stretched across the entire wall. "A twenty foot ladder that I keep in my pocket?!"

Doctor Maero glanced at all of us with furrowed brows before stepping back and touching some of the red that had begun to dry on the wall. His fingers came away covered in congealed red stuff.

"Maybe you wrote this, Phoebe," Lyle irritably suggested, cocking his head to the side. "After all, if I'm not mistaken, you've talked to the little lass the most, so—"

"I WANT TO KNOW RIGHT NOW!" I screeched, stomping my foot and clenching my fists when the adults halted and stared at me. "WHO WROTE THIS?!"

"We don't know!" Lyle snapped, glaring at me with an unexpectedly sharp expression. "Hey, maybe it was _you_! Maybe you _like_ being the center of attention!"

"Are you _crazy?!_ That's the _last_ thing I want! And even if I did, this kind of attention?! FUCK that!" I shrieked back, clenching my fists as the urge to cry became stronger. "I always stayed away from people my own age because they were always doing shit like this! This is the kind of thing I'd expect from _them,_ not full-grown adults! So, _why?!"_

"That's enough," Dr. Maero finally stated, stepping forward and looking at all of us. "Come on, who was it? This isn't paint, its _blood... _but since everyone here is alive, let's just assume that it was collected from the meat bowl in the kitchen when Mrs. Dudley was cooking this morning. This is a prank that was taken a little too far, so I want the culprit to come out and admit their wrongdoing, all right? After that, we'll let it go and continue with our work."

For several moments, nobody spoke and shoes shuffled everywhere.

My throat tightened when nobody admitted it... and after a moment, tears started trickling down my cheeks.

I wiped my eyes and looked up at the writing once more, sniffing a bit as I fought to stop crying: the fact that I could no longer trust any of the people around me to be friendly was an extreme blow, since all of them aside from Milo were adults. I guess it goes to show that even grown people couldn't be trusted.

"Whoever wrote this," I snapped, angrily rubbing my eyes before I turned away from the stairs. "It's cruel... you don't know how much it hurts to not actually _have_ a home. You can all go fuck yourselves. I hate you."

With that, I ran off before I could break down even further.

My departure left four extremely unhappy people standing in front of the decimated painting and congealed blood.


End file.
